Kingdom For Sale
by UnchainMeSister
Summary: Santa Carla. Fall 1988. The summer after the Emerson's leave Santa Carla behind, a prodigal daughter returns to the closest thing to a hometown she has. She settles in quickly; things could be worse than selling trinkets on the pier. Then she gets some new tenants who are more trouble than they're worth. Let's not even mention what she left behind in Los Angeles... Sequel Coming
1. Le Déluge

Mae Clayton hadn't been back to Santa Carla in nearly a decade, and the only thing that had changed was the clothes on the drunken frat boys parading around the boardwalk. Everything still smelled sticky-sweet and stale, a mix of old beer and fallen cotton candy. The lights were too bright at night, giving a false sense of security to the tourists. During the day, you could see the wear and tear more easily, but a few coats of paint and some cheery signs usually made the visitors forget the seedy underbelly of the beach town. She remembered the screaming most of all, most of it from people on rides that they really shouldn't be going on with that much food in their bellies. But every now and then, the screams would be all too bloodcurdling, another victim of the murder capitol of the world. Sometimes people stopped when they heard such a scream, but they were usually in the darkest of places, and no one dared to stay still for very long. You just kept your head down and moved along…unless you wanted to be next.

Still, when the sun was high, the screams were almost always from the people on the roller coaster, so you could ignore the fact that the sticky red stuff under your feet was just as likely to be blood as it was soda. Mae tended to her jewelry stall under the shade of her umbrella, moving it periodically as the sun changed positions in the sky. Her bread and butter were the cheaply made, quickly produced bracelets she could bang out in less than an hour these days. Her display was filled with them, along with some fancier necklaces, earrings, and even a few rings. All costume jewelry, of course; she couldn't afford real stones. Not that the tourists could afford such things either, but if you sell enough quantity, it can make up for the lack of quality. The summer season was over, so business would be slowing down until Halloween. She'd made some good money in the few weeks she'd been back, but it wasn't a lot in the long run. At least the old bag had left her some spending money. She'd last until the tourists came back.

Bouncing around in the foster system had been a bumpy, but ultimately average ride. She'd heard some horror stories, but she'd never been in one. Her ride had ultimately had three stops: one family as a baby, another for most of her childhood, and a few years with a single mom and her sister (and six annoying kids) in high school. She didn't care that none of them had loved her enough to adopt her. They'd all been relatively pleasant people, and she'd never been hurt or underfed or cold. She'd had it better than most, and she was grateful for that. College had always been on her mind, so she'd worked hard and gotten into a decent one in Los Angeles, not too far from her last family, just in case she needed some backup. Lola had always needed help babysitting, so that had given her some cash during her years hitting the books.

With a bachelor's degree in medieval history freshly in her hand and no real desire to teach, she'd been wondering what to do with herself when word had come that she was the sole heir of her very distant Aunt Lydia, who'd been far too old to take Mae in when she was an infant. It seemed that she was her only living relative now (that wasn't lost to the winds, at least), and so the old girl had left her the rotting old house Mae had seen from a distance when she lived with family number two. Wonderful. Aunt Lydia had given her a few thousand dollars, a fully paid-off house, and a load of refurbishing to do. Oh well. It would do. At least the piping worked, and the only thing it needed that she couldn't do herself was a fresh coat of paint on the outside. That would have to wait until after another tourist season. Since work that wasn't tied to the pier was scarce, she'd settled for selling her hobby work of making copper and leather jewelry. Everyone from college girls to stoned punks bought her wares. So now here she was, packing up for the day as the sun began heading down to the horizon.

A somewhat beat up rolling suitcase served as transportation for her goods as she put the closed sign on her stall and headed off for the bus stop. Half an hour later and a mile walked dragging her livelihood behind her like some kind of traveling salesman, she was back home. A cup of tea and a frozen dinner later, she fell asleep in front of the TV, lulled to sleep by some inane documentary. When she jolted awake to the sound of a loud infomercial, she sighed and turned it off, grumbling about jazzercise tapes and spandex. A glance out the window showed that sunrise was on the horizon. She really needed to stop doing this. Gathering her cup and plate, she cleaned up and listened to the creaking of her home as she did the dishes.

Lydia's house was a three story Victorian affair that was rumored to have been built by the same people who owned the old hotel that had fallen into the sea. Back when she was a small thing, the local kids had talked about riding their bikes by the house to see the ghosts in the windows. She'd tagged along one time, curious to see why her Aunt put up with wraiths and spirits. Turns out, the "ghosts" were just her Aunt and the two maids she hired walking by the windows at all hours of the night in old-fashioned clothing and uniforms. After that, Mae didn't listen much to the supernatural stories the children liked to spread around. Vampires? Really? Ugh. The Frog kids were a crazy bunch. Her younger foster siblings eventually stopped talking to them, and she was saved from the elementary school weirdoes.

Little did she know that those two creepy kids were right. She should have listened. That might have saved her from her problems in Los Angeles. She froze when she heard the sound of motorcycles; the sound itself wasn't so unusual, but it was always coming from far away, following the road a mile from her front yard. These were getting closer and closer…and then they stopped. She ignored it, but a cold shiver ran down her spine. A frantic rustling at the door caught her attention as she finished drying the last dish. Soft cursing, a snarl, and a muttered conversation followed. Then, there was a knock. She shouldn't answer it. She shouldn't. She shouldn't…

"Evening…"

Why did she ever leave Los Angeles?

* * *

Another night, another successful hunt. You never knew how much you missed routine until you were torn from it. David led the pack on their motorcycles, tearing across the beach, emptier than usual now that it was getting colder outside. It had rained earlier in the week, but their bikes were in top condition, eating up the miles with ease. He heard the whoops and hollers of his brothers behind him, the sounds joyous and carefree. His face hardened as he thought of the long months behind him, months spent in fear and worry for his family.

Max was dead, and good riddance, but the thought of losing his three brothers forever was one of the few things that truly frightened him. It had taken him ages to get free of the antlers, the pain and shock slowing him down. He was lucky that Michael and his family had left the house to regroup somewhere else. It had given him enough time to collect the remains of his brothers and flee the house before the night was over. He was glad he'd never told Michael the deepest secret of all vampires: short of incineration in a raging fire, where every particle of the bloodsucker was destroyed beyond recognition, a vampire could survive almost any attempt to kill them. They could be brought back with enough blood and time. Even just a small piece of a vampire's body could do the trick. Dwayne's arm, Paul's hand, Marko's head…that was all he'd needed to reform his family. The spirit, however twisted, always lingers at the edge of the void, willing to be called back to the world of the living if the deed is done quickly enough. Cover the parts in blood, the blood of the sire and the blood of a victim, and the vampire's spirit will return, drawn by the irresistible call of their sire.

Even though it had weakened him further, David had sacrificed as much of his blood as he dared to revive his family, only leaving them to quickly kill a victim and drag his corpse back to the cave to drench his brothers in his blood. Then, it was all a matter of waiting as bodies reformed and souls took over the flesh. Marko was the first to come back, being the least damaged of the three. He'd brought David fresh blood since the leader had refused to leave the others' sides while they recovered. The fact that the normally aloof David was allowing himself to be so openly worried only made Marko's loyalty to his friend stronger. They'd sat curled together as Dwayne stitched himself together in his pool of blood, unable to look as his body formed anew. Even after years and years of killing and ripping victims apart, it was unbearable to watch their brother snarl and cry out in agony when his spirit returned too early, causing him excruciating pain.

When Dwayne was whole again, David and Marko just quietly pulled him into their little circle, waiting as Paul lay deathly still. Their youngest brother was also the one who was the most damaged from the fight at the Emerson's. Almost all of him had been dissolved by the holy water. It was only good fortune that had left most of his left hand whole for David to fish out, the leader's own skin remaining marred by the holy water for days until it finally healed. Luckily, Paul's body was whole again by the time his spirit was pulled back into it. As they waited, David said nothing whenever Dwayne shivered and whimpered in his sleep, still tormented by his recent suffering. He knew his second-in-command was tough, and he'd get over it eventually, but he was willing to allow the man his dignity and said nothing. Even Marko couldn't find it in himself to tease his brother. When Paul finally woke up, they silently held each other for nearly the entire night, refusing to let go even when the need for blood sang in their empty veins. When Paul whispered his thanks to David as the sun rose, the other two fighting to stay awake, the eldest simply whispered back "You're my brothers." No other words were needed. They all understood. The next evening, they fed as a pack for the first time in months.

That summer had one of the highest body counts on record in Santa Carla. Never underestimate the hunger of a man who has just cheated death once again.

* * *

When they reached the entrance to the cave, David sensed that something was off. He didn't smell any humans, and the scent of vampire was their own. No, it was something natural, something he couldn't hunt down and kill. The boys quieted down as he got off his bike, picking up on their leader's concern. They silently made their way down, ready to fight whatever had their leader worried. But as it turns out, you can't fight everything. The entire cave was flooded, the whole floor hidden under several feet of seawater. All their stuff, even the posters tacked to the wall, were gone, carried out with the tide. It wasn't anything irreplaceable, but this was home, and the boys stood there in shock for several minutes. It was Dwayne who spotted the large hole in the cave wall where the sea had finally made her way inside. The rains must have finally eroded enough of the rock away to let the sea destroy their home. There was only the sound of water quietly lapping at their former home as the others looked to David, waiting for his pronouncement. Where would they go? What could they do? The sun was less than an hour from rising, and the sea could keep on rising and drown them as they slept. It wouldn't kill them, but it would make waking up very difficult if they were underwater when the sun set.

"Boys, I won't lie, things are about to get very difficult…" David growled, kicking a rock into the swirling tide. Paul grimaced, not very fond of water even months after returning from his second death. Dwayne remained silent, ready to follow David's orders. It was Marko who finally spoke up, a clever spark in his eyes.

"The old Comstock place!" He chirped, grinning as he pictured the old house. "The old lady who lived there died a while ago, I heard some kids talking about it the other night. It should be abandoned. We can hide there tonight."

David grinned, clapping Marko on the shoulder. "Good idea. Come on. Let's ride. We only have thirty minutes. Marko, show us where it is." It had once been unusual for David to be so openly affectionate with the others. They'd never been anything less than family, but after their run in with the Emerson's, David was allowing himself to be a little more open with his brothers.

The four hurried back up to their bikes, saddened by the loss of their home, but they'd figure something out. Marko led the way, his bike screaming down the road as he lead them from the cave, back through town, and through a small forest. The road through it was barely used, little more than a dirt trail. The sky was lightening, driving the boys to push their motorcycles to the limit. Finally, they saw the old Victorian looming before them. There was no car next to the house and no lights on inside. It was light enough to see without their headlights, not that they needed them, so they switched them off as they approached the house. Paul thought he saw a flicker of movement in the bottom right window, but thought nothing of it. Probably a curtain left behind by the hag. They parked by the side of the house, hurrying to the front. It seemed like no one came this way. If they decided to stay, they'd find someplace better to keep their rides. David tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He tried again, but there was nothing. Cursing, he turned to the boys.

"We're locked out. Someone lives here. Someone human." He snarled. Dwayne growled, Paul's eyes went wide, and Marko said something that would have scandalized even the most prolific of swearers. Then they froze as they heard a shuffle of movement inside. Something porcelain was being set on a counter, probably a plate. David grinned. "Play along boys." He whispered, the others grinning at him as he knocked politely.

For a moment, there was silence, then the sound of footsteps as someone approached the door. A pause as whoever it was looked out of the peephole, and then the door opened. The owner of the house was a young woman, of middling height, skin pale but freckling, obviously a recent transplant from somewhere with either less sun, or from a more indoor life. Her hair was dark brown tinged with red, natural or not, it didn't matter. Brown eyes met blue as David put on his most innocent smile. Marko barely held back a giggle, glad that he was mostly hidden behind Dwayne. No one could convince people to do crazy things quite like David.

"Evening. My friend's bike has a flat tire. Can we use your phone to call the tow company?" His voice and demeanor reflected the purest of intent, just some guy out with his friends who got a flat at the wrong place at the wrong time. "I'm sorry it's so early. We were just heading home." For a moment, the brunette was silent, absorbing his words. To David's everlasting surprise, the girl just scoffed. Shit, was he losing it? This always worked on chicks!

"Look, there's four bikes outside my house, none of which have a flat tire. You couldn't make it all the way down here with one; the road's too bumpy. You aren't drunk; I can't smell any alcohol on you. It's too early for guys like you to be out on a joyride, and it's way too late for someone just coming home from a beach party. Those idiots always just sleep on the sand if they get too tired." She spoke quickly, with the patter of someone who was used to the fast pace of a city where no one listened for very long. "So, there's only two explanations: either you guys are the worst robbers I've ever heard of, or you're something else." Her eyes were sharp, too sharp, as she looked David over. "You're them. The vampires who run this town, aren't you? The ones Max used to rule."

A stunned silence followed her words. Even David had a hard time rallying himself. Fuck. This girl knew too much, and he had no idea who she was. She obviously wasn't a vampire; he could smell the human on her. Then how the hell did she know all of this? She wasn't an Emerson and she wasn't a Frog. Those two freaky kids had left with the Emerson's ages ago. He decided to stick with the innocent tack.

"Vampires? Us? Miss, I don't know what you're talking about." He could feel Dwayne ready himself to tear the girl apart, Paul and Marko's nervous energy rising as the sun drew closer.

"Oh? Really? Then why can't you enter my house? Oh, right! Because I didn't invite you in. Otherwise I'd be dead by now." She grinned harshly, knowing that she'd backed him into the proverbial corner. "Drop the act. The sun's almost up, so this must be your last resort, because I know that you wouldn't still be here if you didn't have any other option."

"All right, then." David straightened up, his eyes cold and calculating. His smile was strangely serene, something that usually meant trouble for whoever was on the receiving end of it. "Our last home flooded. We need a place to stay the night."

"I see. Well, I can't blame you for coming here. Aunt Lydia was always a bit of a weirdo, apparently. I'm sure most people still think it's abandoned. Tell you what," the girl straightened up as well, standing toe to toe with David despite her sleep-rumpled clothes. "I'll make you a deal. This house has its secrets, one of them being a room that has no windows and only one door. Absolutely no outside light gets in, day or night. That room can be yours, if you promise me two things."

"Name them." David growled, taking the gamble as he felt the sun inching closer. Even Dwayne was getting nervous. That was always a bad sign.

"One, you swear not to kill me. I'm giving you a place to sleep; I'd rather not regret this decision later. And two, you protect me when I go out at night. I work all day, so I'm not usually out on the town, but when I am, I get an escort. We can work out all the smaller details later, but the sun's almost here. Do we have a deal?" The girl held out her hand, everything below the wrist outside her doorway, meaning that David could pull her out if he wanted to without violating the invitation rule. It was a sign of trust, a foolish one. This girl was either very confident or very reckless. A quick look at his brothers showed that they were willing to take the deal, so with his smile turning a little less harsh and a little more triumphant, David took her hand and shook it.

"You have my word, and the word of my brothers, that we won't kill you, and we'll keep you safe." He let go of her hand, ignoring how she shook it out a little. His tight grip was meant as a threat, to remind her who she was dealing with. She might be worried for her life, but when they slept, his brothers would be vulnerable. He was taking a risk with their lives yet again. It better be worth it. "Now let us in."

"I invite all four of you in." The girl said, stepping aside as the boys rushed inside. She slammed the door shut and hurried up the stairs, well aware of the wide windows and their lack of curtains. "This way." She led them up to the second floor, giving them no time to see the layout of the house. It didn't matter. David would kill her soon enough if she proved to be untrustworthy.

Down the hall and to the right, the corridor lit by some lights and a wide bay window at the end, there was a long, uninterrupted wall on the right side. A door at the far end made it seem like one big room, but the girl stopped a third of the way down the wall, tugging on an old lamp fixture inside a worn bookcase. Something creaked as the outline of a door appeared in the paneling. Their host let go of the lamp, letting it settle back down as she stepped forward to push the door inward. Inside was a small room with some bookshelves, a few boxes, a floor lamp, and a large rug. There were old books on the shelves, as well as a stereo in the corner. A poster of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors" was taped to the wall, along with one for David Bowie's "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust" and Heart's "Little Queen" albums. The girl ushered the boys inside, glancing worriedly at the window at the end of the hall.

"There's nothing for you to hang on, so you'll have to sleep on the floor tonight. Feel free to use the stereo. I've got some cassettes in one of the boxes. I'll come back when the sun sets. If you really need to get out, push here." Her speech was hurried as she showed them a small lever hidden inside an indentation in the wall. "It opens the door, but it swings inward, so be careful. I wouldn't come out until the sun is down, though; the window lights the whole place up all day." She began to leave, but Dwayne stopped her with a hand on her wrist. She tensed, but turned back.

"What's your name?" He asked, his eyes boring into her, examining her with his keen eyes. She was shorter than all of them, and seemed to be weak, but he'd learned not to trust outward appearances. Star had seemed weak too, and she had betrayed them.

"Mae. Mae Clayton." She replied, tugging her hand back from him somewhat less than gracefully. "It won't mean anything to you, I think. I'm not much of anybody in your world."

"Then how do you know so much?" Paul frowned, leaning against the back wall.

"When you keep your ears open in a city as big as Los Angeles, you hear things. And when you hear things, you begin to see things. And when you see things, you begin to make friends." Mae shrugged, heading back out into the hall.

"Then why are you here, and not in L.A. with these…friends?" David asked quietly, his eyes glaring into hers as she reached for the lamp.

"The air didn't agree with me." She smiled enigmatically, her expression one of dark amusement as she pulled the lever, closing the door and leaving the boys in pitch black.


	2. Breakfast For Dinner

"I don't trust her." Marko grumbled.

"Of course you don't. And neither do I." David sighed, rolling his eyes as he paced the admittedly small perimeter of the room. None of them bothered turning on the floor lamp; any vampire who couldn't see in the dark wasn't really a vampire at all. He saw nothing strange, but he wasn't about to trust his brothers' safety to a cursory glance. "Paul, Marko, check for gaps or hidden doorways. See if any light will leak through. Dwayne, with me. We're barricading this door. Grab a box."

Even without a sire's command in David's voice, the boys jumped into action, making sure that their hideout for the day wasn't a trap. There was no sound while they worked, their supernatural powers granting them complete and utter stealth when they wished it. If David had given himself a moment to think on it as he stacked another heavy box, he and his brothers had done a lot of growing up this last year. Immortality didn't always equal maturity. When he was standing guard over his family's bodies as they struggled back from the edge of true death, he had often lamented their loss of "innocence," so to speak. They couldn't be as carefree as before. They were on their own now. You can't trust anyone who isn't family, and for them, family was four brothers who shared a different kind of blood.

Half an hour later, the room was secure. The boxes were piled against the door to stop it from swinging in. Paul had literally sniffed every corner, checking for drafts of air that would signal hidden openings or passageways. Marko's keen eyes had found nothing out of the ordinary, maybe one or two gaps so small that you could barely fit a paperclip through, all of which were in the wall facing the living room. No light would be leaking in through there. The boys found themselves sitting on the rug against the outside wall, leaning on each other as sleep tugged at their eyes. It wasn't natural for them to be up so late, if you could call anything past sunrise late.

Paul was lying with his head in Marko's lap, sprawled out with an arm resting on Dwayne's leg. Marko was leaning into Dwayne, the lieutenant sitting straight up and glaring at the door, even as his eyes drooped. David was feigning disinterest as he shuffled through a few cassettes he'd pulled from a box, his side pushed against Dwayne's. One by one, his boys began to nod off, Dwayne going last, trying to protect his family until the end, as usual.

The moment before David finally succumbed to the pull of slumber, he heard a soft click down below them, having just a moment to remember that it was the sound of the front door shutting. Then he was gone, lost in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Hours later, Mae pulled the lever outside the hidden room, the circles under her eyes incredibly pronounced under the light of the hallway's fixtures. Her sleep had been troubled long before the vampires showed up; a restful slumber was a lost cause once they'd entered her home. She'd gone off to work in a foul mood, treating herself to a pretzel (despite rarely allowing herself such frivolities during working hours) just to calm her mind. Sales were good today, so there was that, at least. She'd changed into faded jeans and an old band shirt once she was home, forgoing shoes like she always did. It was an unusual choice of battle armor, but damn it if she wasn't going to be comfortable when she faced what might very well be her last moments of life. Taking in four vampires as tenants? What the hell had she been thinking?

She'd heard nothing when she returned home, early for once, but she'd chalked it up to the boys still being asleep. The sun hadn't quite set yet when she'd arrived, after all. Despite keeping an ear open for any shuffling or cursing, it seemed that her guests hadn't stirred an inch since her return. Oh well. Looks like she was going to have to give them a wake up call. It was time to establish some ground rules; that is, if she didn't find herself scheduled as the first course on the menu. The door's outline creaked into existence, so she steeled herself and gave it a firm push, letting it open on its own after it got moving. To her surprise, the floor lamp was on, and the boys were standing in a row facing her, eyes cool and expressions neutral. Well, except for the icy blonde one's. That one held himself with all the confidence of a groupie-laden rock star. He was definitely the leader.

"Morning. Or, well, evening, I guess. Dinner's ready. And no, I don't mean me." Mae rolled her eyes when the curly-haired one looked like he was going to giggle. She could see their leader wind up to say something. Since she had no interest in listening to whatever clever and possibly threatening thing he had to say, she turned on her heel and walked back down the hall to the stairs, heading down to the kitchen. "It's pancakes and scrambled eggs. You want something else, you go get it!"

David, who had indeed been about to say something clever, was rather put out that he wasn't going to get to say it. Paul snorted and grinned unrepentantly at David, finding his brother's expression to be the most hilarious thing he'd seen in days. He didn't quit it even when Dwayne cuffed him upside the head, David rolling his eyes before he headed out the door, the others following close behind him. Marko cast a quick look behind them, seeing a second set of stairs at the end of the hall by the window, probably leading up to the third floor. He'd have to explore that later. The second floor hallway extended into an overlook above the living room, leading to a door that was probably the master bedroom.

Down below, a TV sat on a low table, surrounded by a couch done up in a rather hideous upholstery, two plush recliners, and a few chairs scattered around. As they came down the stairs, they could see a library (obviously left behind by the old lady, since it was done in an even more tasteless style than the living room) and another hallway going under the stairs, probably to some storage rooms or something. The kitchen was to the left, large enough to hold a dining table and all the usual kitchen appliances. A large plate filled with pancakes sat in the middle, with places laid out for the guests and their host. Mae didn't look over her shoulder as they entered, the dark sky allowing for her reflection to show in the window. The sound of shoes on the tile floor was her only warning that they had followed her down.

"Milk's in the fridge, syrup's on the table, butter's already on each pancake." She said as she turned off the burner, sliding some scrambled eggs onto a plate. She sat down at the head of the table, grabbing a fork and stabbing a few cakes with it, serving herself. When the boys made no move to sit down, she raised an eyebrow. "What? I got something on my face?"

Her eyes met David's and held them. Marko, Paul, and Dwayne looked back and forth between them, watching a struggle of wills play out. David could sense her rapid heartbeat; she was scared, barely holding it in. She knew she was in a very precarious situation. Good. Most importantly, however, she was putting on a brave front, openly defying David to call her bluff. He could appreciate that in anyone, especially someone apparently out of their league. So, with a grin, he sat down at the other end of the table, stabbing his own set of pancakes. The tension dropped as the rest of his brothers smiled and sat down, immediately making a mess of things as they began helping themselves. The whole time, Mae held his gaze.

"So…I assume you don't make breakfast for all of your guests? Otherwise, I think I'd have to be jealous." David purred, eating with a bit more finesse than his brothers. Paul already looked rather sticky. They didn't need the food, but eating was always fun.

"I don't have guests, and I usually don't want any. I'm making an exception for you. Go on and feel special." Mae grinned, forcing herself to calm down. David had obviously sensed her discomfort, but he seemed willing to play along. Well, that was a start.

"I'm touched." He replied, amused. "In return for your generous hospitality, I'll dig up my manners, just for you." Marko snorted. "That's Marko. That's Paul. And that's Dwayne. I'm David." Mae smiled at each of them, looking them over. Marko and Paul were already halfway through their breakfasts. Dwayne was watching Mae as he ate, assessing her once again. When the girl finally looked down at her plate to cut herself a bite, the brunet sent his brother a nod. She had passed his inspection. All right, then. Time for business.

"So why do you need protection? I like to know what I'm getting my brothers and myself into before I jump. Who is so dangerous that you're willing to make a deal with a bunch of men who would like nothing more than to eat you alive?" His voice was soft, but it carried in the sudden stillness as the others paused in their eating. Mae finished her bite, swallowing loudly in the unrelenting silence.

"Like I said, the air didn't agree with me in Los Angeles." It was bullshit, but she wasn't going to give in that easily. David's eyes darkened.

"I'll let that one slide, since you've kept your word so far. Now you're going to give me an answer." The threat was obvious. Mae sighed, leaning back and rubbing her hand across her face.

"For reasons I'd rather not get into, I saw something I wasn't supposed to see. The only reason I'm still alive is because I was smart enough to haul ass and get out of there before they could see who I was."

"If they didn't see you, why are you here?" Marko asked, shoving another mouthful of pancake into his face.

"Unless they were really shitty vampires, they could smell me. It was sheer luck that I was near a large crowd; otherwise I'm sure they would have followed me. I couldn't risk it. I had to get out of the city, so I came here. These were rogue vamps. They answer to no one. I wasn't safe in Los Angeles." Mae took a large gulp of milk, setting the glass down none too gently.

"…Rogue vamps?" Dwayne finally spoke up, raising an eyebrow.

Mae gave him a look that spoke volumes as to what she thought of her guest's intelligence. "Okay, you guys have been running Santa Carla since, what, the early 20's, right? Probably longer than that? And you don't fucking know about the hierarchies? The councils? The courts!?" Her voice grew louder the more incredulous she got. "Shit. How do I know more than you?"

David barely held back a growl. It seemed like Max had forgotten to mention a few things to him in their years as "father and son." He'd heard about other vampires living in larger cities, but nothing about an apparent system of government. Just another way Max had kept him on a tight leash, it seemed.

"Okay, I'll lay it down simply: the larger the city, the greater the vampire population. Centuries ago, someone realized that, if left unchecked, vampires would eventually expose themselves and cause everyone a shitload of trouble. Since vampires are in the extreme minority compared to the number of humans in the world, things need to be kept secret. You guys are lucky that Santa Carla already had the reputation of being the murder capital of the world before you started terrorizing it; otherwise, one of the councils would've come in and cleaned you out ages ago. To tell the honest truth, you guys are really sloppy." Mae shrugged, that hurried big city clip of hers making her words run into each other.

"As it is, the San Francisco council has been keeping tabs on you and the Widow Johnson. They don't mess with her much. She's not a threat, apparently. But Max was always on their mind, which is why I heard about you guys in the first place. Friend of a friend told me. He was too close to exposing you to humans who could spill the secret."

"Lucy. Michael. Sam." David snarled, his voice hitching on the name Michael. Mae raised an eyebrow, but a quick shake of the head from Marko had her reconsidering her question. Ah. A touchy subject. Moving on.

"Yeah. As of right now, they're not worrying about you. Maybe they think you're too small of an operation to be worried about. Most likely, they just don't care. It was Max they wanted silenced, not you. 'They' being the councils. There's one for every major city, and sometimes there are larger councils for countries or states. Mostly, they're just concerned with their own little area, but some of the oldest vampires like to keep tabs on nearly everyone. I was never too interested in all of that, but I had a drinking buddy who was. Basically, you guys are in the clear so long as you don't do any stupid shit." She finished her food, her appetite small in the face of an uncertain future. When she'd woken up this morning, she hadn't expected to start her evening giving a history lesson to the undead. It was enough to put anyone off their meal.

"This doesn't explain what the hell a rogue vamp is." Paul pointed out, scarfing down another pancake. His fork wandered over towards her plate. It seemed he was more than happy to eat whatever Mae and the others didn't want. Mae pushed the plate towards him, hiding her pleasure at his delighted smile. Okay, she could admit that this one, at least, had his charms.

"A rogue vampire is someone who doesn't follow the laws of the council. They're someone who lives outside the rules and is a danger to both themselves and the vampire world. Usually it's the bloodsucking equivalent to a druggie, vamps who feed off of the heroin addicts and stoners almost exclusively. Someone once told me that it addles your brain. Drink enough bad blood and you go bad too. Councils tend to pick them off quietly to keep the peace. Some rouges, though, they're just psychopaths…well, more so than most vampires. No offense." She actually didn't care if they took offense.

"Some just don't give a shit about rules and kill whenever and wherever they please. They're even more dangerous than the druggies. They're cruel and clever and don't care if humans know they exist. That puts the council, and therefore the whole vampire population, at risk. Since I was the only one who knew what they looked like, I got put under both the Los Angeles and the San Francisco councils' protection. Killing the wrong guys could start a gang war. That's why my friends in Los Angeles helped me get out. They said they'd send word when it was safe. So far, though, they haven't found the rogues. They probably have fled the city, too, which is why I need you guys. If I go out alone at night, I'm easy pickings. With one of you around, I'm safer. Once they're dead, I won't need a bodyguard anymore." With a deep breath that ended in a sigh, Mae leaned back in her chair, watching David's face for any hint of what he was thinking.

It was a lot to take in. David could feel Mae's gaze on him, but his expression betrayed nothing. Paul kept eating, finishing off the pancakes, seemingly unconcerned about the bombshell Mae had just dropped on them. Marko's face matched David's, except his eyes were gleaming with a barely-hidden mirth. Ah shit, a crazy one. Mae nearly sighed dramatically. The pretty ones were always the most insane, weren't they? Dwayne was looking at David. Mae raised her eyebrow, a thought clicking into place. Was Dwayne the lieutenant, maybe? Packs tended to have one.

She let David take his time, knowing that getting involved in all of this was a lot to ask. If he said no, she wasn't sure what would happen. Hopefully, at worst, they'd just leave her alone to her fate. She doubted that David would kill her, what with her dropped hints about powerful friends, but she couldn't be sure. He looked like he could care less about politics. She hated dancing on the edge of the unknown. Somewhere in the background, the radio played softly, some inane pop song by the latest teen sensation. In a moment of quiet hysteria, Mae wished she'd put on a record.

She didn't want to die listening to some kid sing about going to the mall.

* * *

It wasn't often that David found himself thrown for a loop, and it had happened twice in the last two days. Perhaps he was losing his touch, but the circumstances were quite unusual, so he cut himself some slack. He had always liked to be several steps ahead at all times. He liked to think of all the consequences of his actions, especially now, after the death of Max and the disaster that was the Emerson's. Luckily for him, things had turned out for the best, in the end, except for the part where his brothers all nearly died forever. Best not to dwell on that.

The girl across from him was a puzzle, for sure, but not a difficult one. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why she, a human, was apparently friends with enough vampires to know an extensive amount about their world, more than a vampire who had been alive for nearly a century. On top of that, at least some of these friends seemed to be powerful or influential enough to put her under some kind of protection, whatever that meant. He wanted to know more; just "I heard things and now I know things because I made friends" wasn't enough of an explanation for him. Despite his threats, though, she'd kept that "how" part of her story secret. Troublesome, but he could wait. He was nothing if not patient these days.

Back to the matter at hand, though. His childhood hadn't afforded him much education, but he'd learned to pick things up quickly in order to survive. Therefore it was a miracle that Max had managed to hide the existence of a wider vampire society from him. Admittedly, all David had ever really been concerned with was feeding, fucking, and having fun. It had taken a near-death experience to open his eyes to the fact that the world was bigger than his own petty desires. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. The blonde had no reason not to trust Mae on this, even though he'd do his own research later, just in case. Councils and whatnot could explain why Max occasionally disappeared off to San Francisco or Los Angeles sometimes. Max had called these little visits "business trips," but David had always thought he was just going to look for a wife, a mother to his sons. David hadn't needed a mother in life or death, so he'd never bothered with Max's search for a mate. That had obviously been a mistake.

So it all came down to this: in exchange for shelter, Mae wanted David and his brothers to protect her from the rogues who probably had it out for her. Why her friends couldn't protect her in person was something he'd have to needle out of her later. Was he willing to risk his brothers for something so simple as a place to live? This old house was far enough away from the pier that it would afford them both privacy and freedom, much like the old hotel had. With no Max looming over their shoulders, they could do whatever they pleased. Having a human living here meant that other vampires couldn't enter without her express invitation, giving them a safe haven so long as they didn't let Mae get killed. She seemed to be willing to negotiate on house rules, so maybe this could work. He glanced at his brothers, wanting their opinions before he made a final decision. He heard more than saw Mae get up to rinse the dishes off in the sink, giving them a moment to talk it over…or steel herself for her own demise. A bit melodramatic, but no worse than Paul when he'd smoked a little too much weed.

Marko's eyes sparkled with mischief, as per usual. He gave a short nod, grinning a little as twirled a butter knife between his fingers. David would have to make sure he didn't do anything too dangerous to their host, lest she kick them out, or worse, start a prank war with him. The last one Marko had started with Dwayne had nearly caught them all out in the sunlight trying to wash the glitter from their clothes. Paul just shrugged and smiled in his usual lackadaisical way; the youngest was always content to go with the flow, so long as he was allowed to have a good time. He'd seen his brother rifling through the various cassettes in their hidden room, so he knew Paul had already made himself at home.

Dwayne was the last, and most important, vote. He raised an eyebrow at his oldest friend; the man who'd stuck with him through the best and worst times of their undead lives. If Dwayne said no, he'd call the whole thing off. His brother's instincts were never wrong. After a moment of consideration, Dwayne raised an eyebrow and nodded, giving his approval. David smiled, turning back to Mae, who had finished setting the plates into the dishwasher. She turned back to them and leaned against the counter, waiting.

"All right. We'll keep our end of the bargain." He bit back a grin as he saw her sag in relief. "Now for my conditions, non-negotiable. If you want to borrow any one of my brothers, you run it by me. If you see anything suspicious, you run it by me. If you hear from your friends in L.A., you run it by me. You want our protection? It happens on our terms."

"Fair enough. And in return, I've got my own conditions." Mae shut off the radio on the counter and went to the fridge, grabbing a can of soda. "No smoking in the house. That goes for weed, too. You wanna smoke? Hang out the damn window or do it on the porch. I've got asthma. And pick up your trash." David nodded. It wasn't so difficult a rule.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. No eating in the house. You know what I mean. You wanna eat somebody, do it as far away from here as you can. And clean up before you come inside. I've got a washing machine you guys are more than welcome to. There's a shower down the hall and a bathtub on the second floor, next door to your room. I expect you to use them. I can't afford new furniture yet." Mae made sure to glare at each of them pointedly. "I'm serious about this one. No blood on my stuff."

David laughed. "All right, all right. No blood. Anything else?"

"Nah. That's about it. I sell jewelry out on the pier during the day, so I get home around sunset. I don't go to sleep super early, but if you guys could keep it down when you come home, I'd appreciate it." She shrugged, taking another swig of Sprite.

"Then we have a deal. Come on, boys. It's time for a real breakfast." David stood, the others grinning like the monsters they were as they followed him to the door. "Sweet dreams, Mae."

"Go to hell, David."

The sound of laughter flooded the house for a moment. Then the door shut as the roar of motorcycles faded away into the distance.


	3. Time And Tide (Part One)

It's difficult to call anything to do with vampires "routine," but Mae was well on her way to calling her life just that. She woke up in the morning to a silent house, showering and listening to the radio as she prepared for the day. She'd move downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, usually something quick since she rarely left herself enough time, preferring to sleep in. As she scarfed down her bowl of cereal, she'd assess the damage done by her houseguests. Several weeks on, it finally seemed to be getting under control.

After the first few nights of hoping they'd find their manners, she'd sat the boys down and told them in no uncertain terms that if they were going to live in her house, they'd either mop up the mud they tracked in, or they'd leave their shoes by the door. The laughs and general disinterest in her little lecture left Mae thinking that she'd have to pull out the big guns, but the next morning, all their boots were lined up in a neat little row…right on the antique rug under the window. Oh, well. Progress was progress.

When she couldn't put it off any longer, Mae would head out the door with her suitcase and make the long trek into town. She'd pass by the haphazard shed the boys had constructed not long after moving in, admiring the somehow pristine bikes. With all the off-roading the boys did, she often wondered how long it took to polish the damn things. The days on the pier were growing shorter, meaning she had less time to sell things. It was the off-season too, so business was slow. About an hour before sunset, she'd pack up and head back home, sometimes stopping by the grocery store for some essentials if money allowed. Then it was back on the bus, down the dirt road, and inside the house before the sun finished falling behind the horizon. Sometimes she'd hear rustling as she locked the door, but more often than not it was still silent upstairs.

Dinner usually consisted of frozen food or sandwiches for Mae and copious amounts of takeout food for the boys, if they were eating at all before leaving for the night. She never asked where the money for all that food came from, and the boys never offered an explanation. Sometimes it was better to just accept the carton of noodles and not ask why the boys seemed to think she would be fazed by their powers of illusion. She had been friends with vampires for years, and besides, any idiot would know that those weren't worms. After a while, the jokes got old, which meant she finally didn't have to hold back her gag reflex while eating what she knew was rice, despite the visuals before her.

Without telling Mae where they were going or why, the four vampires would head out to cause whatever mayhem they deemed appropriate with a cheerful round of goodbyes to their landlady. Sometimes Paul would mess up her hair, or Dwayne would cast a careful eye around the house, probably checking for unlocked windows or something. Sometimes they just hopped out of the upstairs windows without a word. One memorable time, they didn't leave the house at all, instead playing Black Sabbath at unbearably high volumes before Mae had to threaten them with exsanguination if they didn't turn the damn stereo down. Of course, she couldn't carry through with the threat, but one glare from David had the others half-heartedly apologizing to Mae before she stormed back off to her room, her rumpled pajamas and frizzy hair somewhat less than intimidating.

Mae was always in bed by midnight at the latest, despite rarely falling asleep before two in the morning. David could sometimes hear a classical radio station playing in her room, and those were the nights that he made the boys keep quiet. That was always a sign that she was battling a bout of insomnia, which always left her irritable come morning. It wouldn't do to have a cranky Mae on their hands; that one time when she uninvited them from the house was a night they didn't want to repeat. Sure, she let them back in well before sunrise, but the grumbling and the glowering and the garlic pancakes and the rocks in their shoes were less than pleasant. Let it not be said that Mae Clayton was not petty when she wanted to be.

A strange sort of peace was forming between the five of them, one stabilized by routine and a careful respect of their still somewhat vague boundaries. October came around and the boardwalk began gearing up for the small Halloween surge. Mae started spending her evenings filling up her stock of gothic jewelry instead of just lounging around. Paul and Marko made a habit of watching the horror movie marathons on TV, keeping it down if Mae was asleep, of course. The leaves of the woods around the house began turning and the wind became bone chilling. It was amazingly cliché, a cold autumn surrounding a house filled with the undead and one odd human, but it was home. One by one, the boys began wondering if perhaps, this time, trusting an outsider might be a good thing.

* * *

Youth provided a certain sense of invincibility, even if that youth was relative. The 60's had been an era of love and peace, or so the other hippies had told him. Paul had always been a bit skeptical about the power of the flower children, but hey, they had the best drugs, so why not? Riding the high after a Rolling Stones concert, he'd made a promise to himself that, even if this all turned out to be a scam, or worse, all for nothing, he'd find a way to live forever. At the time, he'd thought he'd become a world-famous musician or some kind of artist. Ambition had never been his strong point, despite his intelligence, so he'd found himself wandering the California coast, high as a kite. He'd been a vagrant for years, never giving the same story twice when someone asked where he came from. He wasn't even sure he'd told Marko the truth. He was beginning to forget it, too.

When Marko had taken him in and introduced him to his brothers, Paul had finally felt a sense of belonging that he hadn't found with any of the strung-out college kids he'd hung around with before. With some blood and a few torn throats, he achieved his greatest dream: immortality. It had taken a few years before Marko had warned him to be careful, that this new half-life was a fragile thing. He hadn't listened then. He should have. They all should have.

Of all the things to be afraid of, bathtubs were one of the stupidest things on the list.

Mae had all but ordered them to regularly wash, with real soap and real towels and real water. It's not like they hadn't been clean before, but for a vampire, a quick dip in the ocean was all it really took to get the body clean, and clothes? They could always be replaced if they got too nasty. It was a strange thing to be able to just throw your jeans in the wash if something got on them, instead of tossing them to the nearest hobo on your way to breaking into the local thrift shop. Who had the patience for laundry? Mae did, evidently. If you left your things on the ancient washing machine, they'd be clean by the time you woke up the next evening, Mae promised. With a mental shrug, Paul had just accepted it as the new norm, almost reminding Mae that since they didn't sweat, they didn't need to shower, before Dwayne had elbowed him in the side and gestured meaningfully at Paul's blood-soaked hair. Oh, right.

While this rule had yet to truly bother him, an unusual night out had brought him to a standstill. Dwayne and David were still out, chasing some tail or whatever; he hadn't really been paying attention. Marko had gotten home before him, taking over the shower in the first floor bedroom, where the crazy old bat's nurses had lived before she'd died. That only left the bathroom on the second floor, which only had an old claw-footed tub to wash off in. For reasons he'd left unsaid in front of their mortal housemate, Paul had religiously avoided that bathroom, and his brothers hadn't said a thing. If Marko had known Paul would be home so soon after him, he probably would have used the tub on the second floor and left the shower open for the younger blonde. As it was, the loud rendition of whatever Scorpions song was stuck in Marko's head told Paul that it would be a while before his brother was done in there. Hot water was a luxury to someone who was used to bathing in the cold sea. Paul would have been content to wait, but he was literally dripping with blood, and it was starting to get tacky.

He was preoccupied enough that he didn't notice Mae leaning on the rail of the overlook for longer than he was willing to admit. While she wasn't unused to people doing strange things, Paul typically didn't space out just inside the doorway. He tended to save it for when he was high off his ass on the porch. That alone was enough to worry her. When he finally looked up at her, she tilted her head.

"The upstairs bathroom is free. I think Dwayne left a few towels in there before he left, so you can just chuck your things in the wash before heading up. I gotta figure out how to clean leather some day, but you guys are probably on your own for now…" She trailed off, frowning. Paul was visibly shaking.

"…Tell me if I'm pushing too far, but you're afraid of something, aren't you? Something in the bathroom? Can't be the wall art, those petunias are ugly, but they aren't the stuff of nightmares." Her attempt at humor seemed to go right over his head, so she tried a different approach. "Toss your things on the washer and come upstairs. I didn't tell you guys earlier, but I have an en suite bathroom up here. I wanted to keep it to myself, but I suppose I can make an exception just this once…" She smiled softly, taking the sting out of her words. It brightened when Paul seemed to shake out of his gloom, the man returning the smile, just a little. He headed off to the kitchen as Mae turned back into her room, switching the record player back on.

Stevie Nicks was singing about gold dust women when Paul poked his head into her room, a place that was normally off-limits. He was sure Marko had snuck in there a few times, and David had once opened the door to hand her some food when she'd been on the verge of a cold and thus unwilling to crawl out of her bed for more than a few seconds. It was a nice room, the wallpaper old-fashioned and somewhat faded. Most of the walls were covered in posters, ranging from old-fashioned travel advertisements to album covers from an eclectic group of bands. Her bed was a queen size, the covers currently buried beneath the various odds and ends she used to make her wares. It looked like she'd been in the middle of yet another inventory check when Paul had come in. The rest of the furniture was sparse, just a large desk in a corner, two chairs, and a dresser. A long mirror leaned against a wall, empty of reflections since Paul was the only one in the doorway it faced. He'd spent a while imagining what Mae's personal space had looked like, and it was strange to finally see it after a month and a half.

The woman herself was leaning against the en suite door, the light on inside. She just had a walk-in shower, no bathtub. Mae held out a towel for him, checking him over as he took it to make sure he wasn't leaving blood on her floor. Satisfied that he wasn't, she smiled and returned to her bed, moving a few things around. Paul took that as his cue, stepping into the bathroom and quietly closing the door. He could hear Marko faintly through the walls, Stevie's voice burying most of his brother's awful singing. A new voice joined the bizarre chorus, and he chuckled when he realized that Mae was trying to harmonize with Stevie Nicks and failing, just a little. Her voice wasn't bad, so he listened to it as he tossed his underwear to the side and hopped in the shower. He wasn't really into Fleetwood Mac, but he wasn't against them, either. His earlier panic began to fade away as the water turned pink with old blood, the leftovers from his meal sliding down the drain.

The boys took long showers when they could, so Mae tuned out the patter of water against tile as she finished counting out beads and charms. A few more numbers were added to her notebook, and then she put everything away, storing things as meticulously as she could. She had never really had the patience for being organized, but it was a necessity when trying to keep a business running…if you could call what she did a business. The shower turned off, the scuffing sounds of cloth on skin just audible under her music. She sat on the bed, stretching her legs as Paul stepped out, his towel around his waist. Steam drifted out into her bedroom, her mirror clouding briefly before clearing again. It was strange to see his hair as anything less than teased to high heaven, but Mae liked it. She could admit that she found all of the boys attractive, but she tried not to stare. It was rude and would give them way too much ammunition. She was currently failing at not staring. They gazed at each other awkwardly for a moment before Paul cleared his throat.

"Uh…thanks. For the shower." He felt vulnerable, half-naked and worn out from the unwanted memories of his brush with true death.

"No problem. If the downstairs one is busy, you can always come up and use mine. Just knock first, okay?" Mae kept her voice soft and quiet, like he was a scared animal. Maybe he was. "You don't have to talk about it, but…if you want to, I can listen."

Paul sighed, leaning against the wall. For a moment, he wanted to tell her everything, if only to get it out of his system. She'd hear everything eventually, but since David hadn't told her about what had led them to shun outsiders so terribly, he wasn't about to break that silence. David's anger wasn't something he actively sought out.

"…It's a long story." His voice was as tired as he looked in that moment, a far cry from his usual laid back aura.

"Winter's full of long nights. Perfect time for long stories." Mae countered, nudging at this new boundary.

"Humans should be sleeping at night." Paul pushed away from the wall, heading for the door.

"Humans should be doing a lot of things. I don't let 'should' stop me." Mae tilted her head, studying him.

"Ask David, Mae." He turned back for a moment, his hand propping him up in the doorway. "It's not really my story to tell. Thanks for the shower." With that, he disappeared down the hall, back to the boys' room.

Mae sat quietly on her bed for a long time after that, weighing things in her mind. The record skidded to a halt, having run out of things to say.

* * *

There was never a shortage of leather jackets for sale on the pier, but Dwayne was rather attached to this one. He'd had it for a few years now, the jacket surviving far more wear and tear than it should have, given that it was just something he'd stolen from some shop that had long since gone out of business. When you were immortal, you went through clothes like they were tissue paper. Everything could be replaced; everything except people, and even those were in plentiful supply. Sure, he'd grown fond of certain things over his near century of living, but a childhood on the reservation had taught him to keep those attachments few and far between. Even after his move to Santa Carla, he'd kept his personal items to a minimum.

The practice was the remains of some old fear of losing what mattered most to him, of having someone stronger and scarier than you taking all that you had. He didn't remember his mother very well anymore, but she'd taught him to carry what you loved in your heart, because eventually someone would steal it from you, and the memory would be all that you had left. The rest of his birth family hadn't been of much use to him, but his mother's words were etched into his mind forever. She'd been taken, lost to someone he couldn't fight, and he'd refused to let that happen to anyone else he cared about.

He was a protector by nature, a wolf that fared best in a pack. The tribe wasn't his home, nor were the other people he'd lived with as he crossed the United States at the turn of the century. He'd never found a place that accepted him, let him make himself a home. If it wasn't his skin, it was his hair, and if it wasn't his hair, it was his lack of education. No one had wanted him. David, scruffy and skinny and angry, had been an unlikely leader, but Dwayne had felt a sense of home with the kid he'd never felt before. Turning had been an easy choice, the power coursing through him like fire in his veins.

Faint memories of ghost stories told by old men half-dead with alcohol poisoning had rattled through his brain as fangs carved themselves from his teeth. Flashes of old warnings about the creatures in the night, the cursed monsters forever denied their rest. At the time, he'd ignored them as drunken fools; now, he wished he'd gone back, just to show them all how strong he had become. He would've torn the men who'd killed his mother apart, exacting his revenge, making his name one to be feared throughout the reservation. They would all be afraid. No one could take anything from him now. Dwayne was the wolf in the night.

As the decades had passed, however, Dwayne began to let himself get soft. He grew attached to things, things that were trivial at best. A pair of shoes he'd had a hard time getting rid of in the 40's, a pair of sunglasses in the 60's, and now his jacket. The jaguar on the sleeve was a warning, a signal to the world to stay away if you wanted to live. He wore it with pride, like a warrior wearing the pelt of a beast he'd slain with his bare hands. And now there was a long gash down the back, a reminder that even the weakest of prey could leave its mark on you before it died. The punks they'd feasted on tonight had been tasty, but troublesome to an almost annoying degree. One of them had managed to pull a knife on them before getting torn apart by David, the blade just barely missing Dwayne's skin. How long had it been since Dwayne had last been snuck up on? It had been far too long, and he didn't like how easy it had been for the human to get the drop on him.

The brunet had kept quiet on the way home, refusing to just toss the jacket aside like the rest of his brothers did when their clothing was ruined. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was reluctant to let it go. His mother would be angry with him, but she wasn't here now, was she? He trailed behind the others, ignoring Marko and Paul's playful shoving match and David's fond annoyance at the youngest brothers. Dwayne wordlessly made his way to the kitchen, setting his things on the machine as usual, hanging his jacket on a hook on the wall. The others were still outside, smoking a cigarette or a joint before retiring. A quick shower later, he dressed in whatever was close by, bunking down for the night. They had yet to find a strong enough rod to nail into the wall to hang from, so the boys had fashioned makeshift beds from the nurses' old mattresses and duvets. Dwayne's was closest to the door, ready to fight anyone who came in with deadly intentions.

He left the lamp off, a signal to his brothers to shut the hell up when they came in. Vaguely, he knew he was sulking, but he didn't care. As far as he figured, he'd earned it. Out of all the gang, Dwayne was the one most worried about their safety, always on alert, always watching. His lack of vigilance tonight could have lost him far more than his stupid jacket. Moping about it wouldn't help anything, but he was allowed a few hours of indulging in his lesser whims. Distantly, he heard the others shuffling around about an hour later, the sun rising and calling them to the deep sleep of the undead. The last thing he registered before drifting off was the shutting of the door and a hand carding through his hair.

The next morning, Dwayne was the last to rise. Sometimes he could sleep like the dead, pun intended. If they were in a safe place and the others kept quiet, Dwayne would sleep for hours after the sunset, an unusual trait for a vampire. He'd never questioned it. A languid stretch was stopped by the sudden realization that he considered this place safe. Dwayne's brows knit together as he stared at the ceiling. The last time he'd slept this late was in the cave, ages before the whole Michael debacle. He could only truly sleep in a place he thought of as home, so what the hell was going on? He put his thoughts aside as he headed down to the kitchen, the house quiet except for the distant sound of a record playing in Mae's room. His brothers were probably off feeding, leaving him to sleep in. He'd have to thank them later.

Dwayne paused when he caught the scent of blood in the kitchen, his fangs dropping for a moment before he got control of himself again. It was a bare hint of copper, nothing terrible. It couldn't be a victim, since feeding was forbidden inside the house. Something Mae cooked? No, the blood was old, too old to be anything from her dinner, and there were no dishes in the sink. As he moved farther into the kitchen, he found the answer: a sewing needle, the tip dark brown with oxidized blood. Hm. Mae must have hurt herself sewing something, but what? Dwayne shrugged, leaving the needle on the counter, intent on grabbing his clothes and gearing up for the night, eager to tear some people apart. He reached for his jeans, neatly folded on a spare table, nearly missing his leather jacket, folded right next to his pants. His jeans forgotten, Dwayne picked up his coat, staring at it with open awe.

The gash along the back had been sewn shut, and when he looked on the inside of the jacket, he could see a line of neat, if occasionally irregular, stitches. A few of the white threads were stained brown with dried blood. Ah. That would explain the bloody needle. But what surprised him the most was what covered the stitches on the back: a long, sinuous rattlesnake patch, just the right size to cover the damage. The design was obviously meant to be Native American, leaning more towards the Mesoamerican or Southwestern tribes. He was Huron, but the thought put into what should have been just a simple repair was endearing. He was fairly certain he'd seen a patch like this at one of the stalls on the pier, its owner about as Indian as a German chocolate cake. The price tags he'd seen there were far too expensive for the mismatched knockoffs, so Mae must've paid a lot of her meager savings to buy it. A pleasant sort of warmth spread through Dwayne that, for once, had nothing to do with bloodlust. With a smile, he finished dressing, putting on the jacket with a sense of relief that he wouldn't have to find a new one.

When he left the washroom, he saw Mae sitting on the stairs, a bandage on her thumb and a set of leatherworking tools on her right. The portable radio was a few steps beneath her, playing some inane rock station while she worked. She looked up when he climbed the stairs, their eyes meeting. A silent understanding passed between the two, a pair of smiles softer than the ones they usually wore passed like secrets on paper. A few quiet seconds passed, which were interrupted by an annoyingly loud car dealership commercial. With a huff, they both rolled their eyes, the moment broken.

"David said he'd be down at the bar by the time you woke up. Marko and Paul are watching a concert or something." Mae offered, tying off a section of leather cording.

"Thanks, little sister." Dwayne leaned down and ruffled her hair, knowing she'd see the deeper meaning to his words. Her indignant squawk followed him out of the house.

It wasn't until he was miles away, sitting at the bar with David, that he realized that he'd said the term of endearment out loud.


	4. Time And Tide (Part Two)

Keeping the gang's bikes pristine was Marko's job, and he did it well. It was his favorite place to be, covered in grease and oil, neck-deep in whatever vehicle he could get his hands on. If you're expecting a sob story, you're not gonna get one. Out of all the boys, Marko's tale was the least depressing.

He was just another of those millions of kids born just before the war, a stay at home mom and a military dad who was stationed somewhere on the other side of the world. His mom had paraded him around, the prize trophy, her reward for being a good little immigrant housewife living off her husband's military salary. She was going to make him the envy of all the other moms on the cul-de-sac. Rationing made it difficult, but she took whatever scraps she could find and made them into the latest fashions from her beat-up copy of whatever magazine she could save from the recycling pile. Post-war, with her husband honorably discharged with a bum leg and a lifetime of PTSD as thanks for his service, she finally got the life she deserved. Her husband got a bland little office job, running the accounting for most of the area's mechanics and machinists. Her son was always perfectly clean and perfectly groomed, always at school on time, always earning top marks in his classes.

Marko wasn't the richest boy in town, not by a long shot, but he never went hungry and he always had new clothes to wear when he wanted them. His mother was obsessed with image and the American dream, but that wasn't unusual. So what if she treated him more like a doll than a person? At least she wasn't smoking all the time like Benny's mother. The acrid fumes made him cough every time he was shunted over there for a "play date," never mind that he and Benny hated each other. Their moms got along and that was that. His father was a social drinker, no real bad habits besides sometimes staring off into the distance. He hated loud noises, so Marko had to keep the TV down when he watched the early morning kid's shows. He wasn't neglectful, but he wasn't very loving, either. It could have been worse; Margie's dad did bad things with the local gangs, she'd once told him. He hadn't seen her in a long time.

When he got older, Marko had taken an interest in how things worked: people, machines, animals, whatever caught his fancy. He took a summer job at the nearest mechanic's, returning every year he actually stayed in high school, learning the ins and outs of cars. His grades in biology were the best (not that his mother ever let him get anything less than an A). By the time he was in senior year, he could dismantle a person as easily as a truck, if he'd had a mind to do it. He didn't, but he could. He could. People were easy, but cars didn't have the annoying tendency to talk back to you, or worse, talk to your mother. So Marko focused on his cars, his bikes, his trucks, wondering whether he could drop out and focus on the mechanic's shop full time without having to deal with his irate mother. She had already bought a Yale pennant. Her Marko was going to be a doctor, she told everyone who would listen. Hmph. He had no interest in fixing people, Ma! People were shit. They did terrible things. Who needs 'em? I don't. I don't.

Discontent with the life planned out for him, Marko had intended to wait until he was 18 and just move in with Johnny. Johnny wasn't a friend, exactly, just a co-worker, but he was a pleasant enough guy, if a bit airheaded. The kid already had an apartment of his own, having graduated three years ago. Together, they could repair and clean a Ford Mustang in a matter of hours. It sounded like a good idea, and Johnny was fine with having a roommate. And then he'd met David.

David was everything Marko aspired to be: cool, collected, and unaffected by the world around him. He gave off an air of eerie calm, a dark serenity that had people moving away just as often as they were drawn to him. His muscle, Dwayne, was a quiet man, his anger hidden beneath a stony expression. Occasionally, you'd see him smile when it was just he and David, but those sightings were rare. Marko didn't know why they hung around the shop; their bikes were pretty well cared for, so what did they want? No dames worth having ever darkened their door, and the last place to pick up a guy was in this delightful piece of suburbia. Coming by only when the sun had set made sure that they were the last customers of the day, too. It took Marko a while to figure them out, and when he did, he was dumbfounded.

They wanted Marko to join their gang, their brotherhood, their coven. They were vampires, bloodsuckers, monsters. They wanted only the best, and Marko, with his creepy smiles and his dark thoughts and his encyclopedic knowledge of all things mechanical (and human). Marko, with his perfect nuclear family and decent upbringing and lack of relevant life experience for living on the road. Marko, who was going nowhere fast. What the hell were they thinking? Still, anything would be better than suffocating forever in this Leave It To Beaver hell. Call him selfish, but Marko wanted something more than just the cookie cutter life all the boys on his block were leading. He wanted adventure. He wanted mystery. He wanted to pick people apart in every way possible. The world was his, his to play with, if only he went with David and Dwayne. All he needed to do was to drink the wine.

And so he drank it. Not even a goodbye to his family. He just disappeared between one night and the next, the trappings of his old life dropped like an oily old rag. A few years ago, he'd heard that his mother and father died in a car accident. Apparently they had left behind a new son, a doctor, married with two kids, a picket fence, and a house in a valley. Did Marko feel any remorse? No. Was he sad? Not really. Pick that apart all you like, but he was content, and well, his mother had gotten what she wanted in the end. All was right with the world. And then Michael had happened, and Max's insatiable need to become the same kind of person Marko's mother had been. That hadn't worked out very well for any of them. It just goes to prove that Marko was right to leave that fantasy world of happy houses and perfect families. He had his brothers. That was all he needed.

Okay, actually, what he really needed right now was a towel.

An evening spent working on the bikes (Paul just had to crash again, didn't he? And right after another round of rainfall, too!) had ended with him getting covered in engine grease and old oil. He had no problem with their little landlady, not anymore, but her rules chafed him a bit. It was a bit like having a mom again, and he hadn't liked it all that much the first time around. Still, David was making them all play nice, and Paul had said that she had even let him use her shower the other day, so maybe she wasn't all that bad. Dwayne followed her around like a shadow the few times she went outside at night, mostly to just sit on the porch and watch the stars, so she had his approval, too. Looks like she was worming her way into whatever passed for a heart in a vampire. Marko had spent many an evening studying her, glaring at her carotid artery when she pissed him off, or naming her various bones when she did something funny. The rocks in the shoes had impressed him, though, so Marko was giving her a pass. Besides, David had warned him not to play tricks on her without their leader's approval. Boring, but bearable.

Marko wandered inside, tossing his things haphazardly in the wash, wondering when he'd accumulated three clean shirts instead of his usual two. Oh, right, Mae had swiped a few spare shirts the thrift shop was tossing out. Nice. He wandered into the shower, waving at Paul as his brother dried his hair off by the sink. A nice warm shower would get everything off, and it was a far nicer thing than jumping in and out of the hot springs at the old cave. Even though vampires were pretty immune to cold, it didn't mean that the sensation was necessarily pleasant, either. He liked summer and its warm air, but autumns by the sea could be bitterly cold. He'd grown up in a sunny part of California. Call him a hothouse flower, but Marko would stay in a steamy room all day if he could.

When he got out, Paul was gone, and so were all the towels. Little prick. He shook off as much water as he could before poking his head out into the hallway. His ears picked up a set of footsteps, too heavy to be his brothers. Ah, Mae was home. David was out, so he could play a little mischief without worrying about getting caught. He'd wanted to test Mae for a while now, see where she drew the line, what he could get away with. They all thought they were awfully fancy down in L.A., but he'd seen people who claimed to have seen it all crumble before something new. He wanted to gauge her reactions, to pick her apart without tearing into skin and bone. People were more delicate than cars, after all. When she was closing in on the door, on her way to the kitchen, no doubt, he stepped out, naked as the day he was born (the first time, at least).

Mae froze when she was greeted with an eyeful of naked blonde. Growing up, she'd lived with foster brothers and sisters, so nudity wasn't unusual to her, but everyone had done their best to avoid being seen, so it was always just a flash of this or that. Marko was just standing there, hands on his hips, his usual eerie smile plastered on his face. She could vaguely sense Paul somewhere behind her, barely holding back his laughter. Ugh. Amateurs. Slowly, she let her gaze go down Marko's body, then back up, taking him in. When she met his eyes again, she just raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"Eh. I've seen bigger." She quipped before moving on her way, brushing past him, the back of her hand accidentally brushing his thigh in the tight hallway. She'd never admit it, but she had enjoyed that little touch a lot more than she'd let on. All the boys were gorgeous, but Marko had that angelic quality that made you drop your guard. She had a soft spot for boys with sweet smiles and evil eyes.

Back in the hall, Paul was cackling at Marko's stunned face. The older of the two growled at him before heading towards the stairs, grabbing the towel his brother handed him on the way up. He'd wanted to shake her up, make her give something away, but it had backfired. Sure, he saw the hint of arousal in her eyes, but that was a fairly natural reaction to someone who was naked and attractive. He'd used his looks time and again to get what he wanted. They all did. But she hadn't even so much as twitched! And she'd insulted his size! Still, it gave him something: she wasn't going to put up with his shit. That was quite unusual for anyone, much less someone who had a vested interest in keeping her housemates happy and on her side. Her reaction had only cemented the place she held in his mind, one firmly in the category of "people I like." That category was awfully small.

Downstairs, Paul was still giggling, making a racket as he dug through the fridge. If Marko listened hard, he could hear a rapid heartbeat from the washroom. Hm.

This could be interesting.

* * *

The thing about Catholics is that they breed like rabbits, even outside of Ireland. David's mother had been the proud creator of eight children, six of which had survived infancy, five of which had survived the measles epidemic that had torn through their little cattle town. That was a pretty good score, especially in the days before good medicine was easy to come by. There would have been a ninth, but he died in the womb, taking Ma with him. Pa had never had time for his children beyond making sure none of them had died during the night. When Ma died, he got himself a new wife, a widow with three kids of her own, all older than Ma's brood. David, somewhere in the middle of the birth order, had been given the unusual honor of never being on anyone's mind. This was mostly because no one ever really noticed him in the first place. He was too young to work at the stables with Pa, too old to need full-time care from his elder sisters like the little ones did. His new Ma was pregnant again, the promise of a replacement for child number nine (actually, this would be child number twelve if you counted the kids that died) stirring Pa to bring the older of New Ma's boys to work with him. David made a living shining shoes, selling papers, running errands, and beating up other kids for their spare change. No one noticed. No one cared.

It was tough being a Catholic in those days. The Civil War was long over, so people needed a new enemy to focus on, and since people weren't very original, the Protestants of America turned their anger once again to the world's biggest Catholics, the Irish. Pa kept his job because he was the best man in town with horses, but if someone else came along with no need for the catechism, Pa would be gone in a second. David's New Ma was constantly worried about extra income, having already lived as a penniless widow once before. As soon as they could talk and walk on your own, she was sending David's siblings out to work or to school. College was a pipe dream, although one of his brothers could maybe get away with it. Maybe. Prayers were said over that son, one of New Ma's children, with hopes that he would become a priest or a learned man and bring money to the family. David didn't pay attention. Despite having a roof over his head, leaky as it was, he never liked being at home.

David spent his childhood ignoring his family just as much as they ignored him. They had so many kids to deal with that when one of the older ones was missing at the dinner table, it wasn't a big worry. Pa and Ma could always make more. More souls for Jesus, or something like that. David spent his days learning how to live on the streets, talking to prostitutes and beggars and con men more than he ever talked to his own relatives. The century turned with enormous fanfare, and David spent it deep in some beer hall with a little gang he was angling to join. They were nothing big, but they were going places, or so he thought.

Later that night, every last one of them was dead, including David.

Max wasn't the sort of father figure David was used to. He offered something greater than just a little street gang in some no-name cow town. The world was changing, and if you didn't dream big, you would be left behind. David, always angling for something bigger and better, shook the man's hand and became a demon. His Ma, wherever she was, was probably crying in shame, but David didn't care. He had power. He had purpose. He had control. No one could ignore him now. He left his hometown far behind him, the place eventually burning to the ground. David had never looked into what happened to his family. He ignored it, just one last little revenge on the people and place that had tried to keep him down.

The coast was infinitely better than the valley he grew up in, the air brighter, the heaviness of sweating cattle and filthy people traded for crashing saltwater and a sense of renewal. Max chose the new city of Santa Carla, a little thing with big potential. Over the decades, he cultivated it, influencing things just enough to make it a tourist destination, despite its...unusual reputation for murder. Old Widow Johnson moved in, hovering at the edge of their territory, never causing much trouble. David recruited Dwayne, then Marko, and finally Paul, creating a circle of brothers so much better than the one he was born with. The world was at his fingertips, and life was good.

As the years passed, he grew distant from Max, chafing at his maker's control. Star and Laddie were added to the group at Max's behest, a Wendy for the Lost Boys. Max became obsessed with making a "real family," and that spelled the end for David's charmed life. In came Michael and his mother Lucy. David was sent after Michael while Max went after Lucy. Sam could be dealt with later. David had tried to object, but Max wouldn't hear of it. David didn't love Star like Max had planned. Michael wouldn't join like Max had planned. Nothing went as Max had planned. David and his brothers paid the price for it. He'd almost had Michael, but those damn Frogs had soaked Sam in their slime long enough to convince him to stick his nose into their business. Michael wasn't quite his type, but making Max's newest son his plaything would have been a sweet revenge for Max's fixation with cookie-cutter families.

Nothing had gone according to plan then, and nothing was going according to plan now. This new home wasn't part of the plan David had laid out once his brothers were back from the edge of death. They were meant to stay in the cave for another few years before moving on to another city. Now there were councils and courts and vampire society bullshit to worry about. David had asked around, talked to a few people he'd met on the road long before Max had settled on Santa Carla as his lair. They all confirmed what Mae had said, which only deepened his suspicion that Max had purposely kept him in the dark. Damn it. If he moved his brothers outside the city, he'd have to make deals with whatever local group controlled their new lair, and he hated compromising. They already did enough of that with Mae, and all she wanted was for them to stop ruining her carpets.

Due to their relative innocence regarding the Emerson Incident, as the councils called it, the boys were given free reign of Santa Carla in return for not causing any more trouble. It was a good thing the boys liked the city, or they'd have gone stir crazy by now. The Old Widow hadn't made a peep in a few years, so maybe she was under the thumb of the councils too. It was a pretty sweet deal, if you thought about it: a ready-made kingdom, all for them. No outside interference, no need to worry about a sword of Damocles hanging above their head. Santa Carla was theirs. No need for escape plans, at least.

A few days ago, Paul had asked him if they were planning on staying at Mae's for the foreseeable future. David hadn't had an answer to that. He'd sent Paul on his way with a maybe. Certainly, David had some ideas of what they'd do if Mae permanently uninvited them or was killed. He'd gone looking after their first night with Mae. There were some places to hide that no one owned that would make good sanctuaries. In times past, the boys would already have moved on, finding somewhere else to camp out in. Now, though, David was cautious. Living with Mae had one very important advantage: since Mae was the only human who owned this house, she was the only person who could invite a vampire inside. This gave David and his boys protection. If they were under attack, they could dive into the house and be safe. Sure, someone could burn the place down, but the invitation rule would buy them some time, at least. The house was far enough away from the city that people rarely passed within sight of the house, and they never went down the dirt road beyond a few feet. Old tire marks showed the couple of times Mae had spent the money on a repairman of some kind, but they were months old.

No, they wouldn't leave. Not unless they had to. Mae had been good on her word so far. She let them have the run of the place, mostly, and even did a few chores for them. Granted, her somewhat matronly rules about cleanliness rubbed them all the wrong way, but they had all gotten so used to them that the inconveniences barely even registered anymore. In fact, all of his brothers seemed to be falling under her spell, taking to her in a way they never had with Star or Laddie. Paul had danced with her to a particularly good song on more than one occasion. Dwayne always checked the house before they left, making sure that no one living could get inside. Marko seemed to be watching her intently, doing his usual thing of taking her apart bit by bit, but since he hadn't done anything worthy of being banned from the house yet, David took that as a sign that Marko liked her. David could appreciate her honesty, her lack of fucks to give, and her ability to get his brothers in line. Only David could do that, until now. He especially liked that she had the good sense to still have a healthy fear of them. He hated stupid people.

One night not long before Halloween found Mae on the couch in the living room, the TV set to some late night news channel. The sound was low enough that David could easily hear Dwayne in the shower and Marko tinkering outside. Paul was smoking weed on the porch. The atmosphere was pretty tranquil, for a group of vampires, that is. It had been a week since Paul had set David to wondering about their situation. Papers, spread out all over the coffee table, the floor, and the cushions, surrounded Mae like an angry mob. Her hair was unruly from the countless times she'd redone her braid in frustration. Her eyes had deep, dark circles underneath them, and her mouth was drawn in a deep frown. David settled down on one of the empty chairs, plucking at a loose thread on the hideous upholstery. He snatched up a paper and examined it, noting Mae's lack of response. What had her so worried that she didn't even acknowledge him? He glanced at the page he'd picked up: it was an electricity bill. A quick look at the rest of the mess showed that they were all bills. Together they totaled more than Mae made in a month. A notepad with haphazard calculations sat at her side, the scribbles adding up to a deficit. Mae finally stirred from her intense concentration, a deep sigh leaving her lips. She leaned back against the couch, her eyes closing in defeat.

"I've managed to keep things in the black so far. I rarely eat anything that isn't frozen or pre-packaged. I haven't bought new clothes in six months. I take apart items that didn't sell and reuse them for new stock. I have a deal with the guy who runs the pier for a discounted stall that runs out this week. I have to pay full price now. And on top of it all, I can't pay the water bill this month." Her eyes opened halfway, her expression tired and overwhelmed. She ran her hand through her bangs, glancing at David before returning her gaze to the bills in front of her.

"I could use Aunt Lydia's extra money, but that's only a few thousand dollars, and I was saving that for fixing up the place, or for an emergency. If I can't pay the bills, my credit is screwed. I won't lose the house, but I need heat and water to survive. The only way to make ends meet would be to…to run the stall at night, to try and get as many customers as possible during the Halloween rush. There are more people on the boardwalk after dark, but I can't go out at night. I need to pay these goddamn bills, but I can't risk it." Mae drew in a shaky breath.

"What if they find me? I'm just a human. I can't fight them off on my own. They'd kill me. I can't hide forever, but I'm so afraid…" For the first time since he'd met her, David saw tears in Mae's eyes. She was trying to hold them back, but it was no use. She curled in on herself, trembling with the force of her sobs, but she didn't utter a sound. It was the posture of someone used to comforting herself, alone.

No one had ever called David comforting. Sure, he was close with his brothers, and he wasn't afraid of casual touches or quiet reassurances when the time called for it, but he wasn't known for being the gentlest of beings. That was Paul's area, or Dwayne when he was feeling magnanimous. It had been years since he'd had a sister. Years since he'd wanted to give something and not expect anything in return. Years since he'd wanted to comfort someone who wasn't his brother. Not even Star had warranted more than a scoff of derision when she had her moments of humanity. But now…

Quietly, without a word, David stood from his seat and picked his way around the dozens of bills strewn about the living room floor. He knelt down in front of Mae, reaching out and tugging her hands away from her stomach. He cradled her head in his hands, turning her face towards him. Even without his usual jacket and boots, he cut an intimidating figure, his pale skin and pallid hair a ghostly combination. His eyes searched hers, seeing the combination of fear and shame and utter exhaustion, and for once, he didn't feel the urge to use it against her. Any weakness shown to him was something he stored for later use. He always wanted the upper hand; he almost always had it. He could use this. He could use her desperation against her, bend her to his will, and rewrite their deal to his absolute benefit.

Instead, he just pulled her forward and wrapped her up in his arms, letting Mae bury her face in his cold neck.

The sun was rising by the time he finally moved. At some point during the night, David had ended up with his back resting against the sofa and Mae curled up in his lap, sound asleep. Dwayne had long since finished his shower and come to check on the pair in the living room, having been drawn by the sound of soft crying. A look had passed between the two men, a friendship of nearly one hundred years allowing them to speak without words. Dwayne had nodded and headed upstairs, bedding down for the night. Marko had been next, covered in his usual mix of dirt and grease. He'd been about to shout upstairs, probably to see if anyone was in the tub, but one glare from David silenced him. At this point, Mae had still been awake, and she'd tried to make herself smaller, hiding in David's arms. The heat he felt against his skin told David that she was embarrassed. He'd sent Marko on his way with a raised eyebrow, the younger man giving Mae a worried look before heading upstairs. Paul had breezed in an hour before sunrise, smelling like a hippie commune at high tide. He'd been halfway to the showers when he paused, seeming to finally process what he'd just seen on the living room floor. He gestured at David, then the bedroom, probably wondering when David would go to bed. The eldest just shrugged, so the younger mimicked the gesture and headed off to do his own thing. David was sure he'd get an earful after sunset.

When it got to the point of no return, David carefully stood up, gathering Mae in his arms. The sky was turning a soft blue as he flew up to the overlook, nudging the door to her room open. He set her down on the bed as carefully as he could, not wanting her to wake up for some reason. There wasn't really any time to make her comfortable, so he settled for closing the blinds on her window before hurrying out the door. Once he was safe inside the secret room, David leaned against the wall, staring at the Ziggy Stardust poster with a pensive glare. His brothers were fast asleep; nothing short of a sire's command would able to wake them from their slumber. The pull of the sunrise was tugging on his mind, forcing him to slowly slide down the wall, settling down on his makeshift bed. He kept himself awake as long as possible, a million things running through his head. Plans and more plans. Plans for when the other plans failed. Plans, and one nagging thought: for the first time since Paul had joined their family, he was becoming attached to a human. This time, though, he was the leader, the sire, the ruler, not Max. He had the final say, the true command of his brotherhood. If Mae brought them to ruin, it would be on his head.

His eyes closed as another thought popped into his head: he had already risked his brother's lives on this woman. That first night had been a life or death situation, but every night after had been a conscious decision to make themselves vulnerable to a girl they knew nothing about. She knew about them and their world; hell, she knew more than they did about vampires. She had advantages over them that couldn't be countered, and yet, David had stayed. The others trusted him. He'd never led them astray, and now, weeks later, they were thriving. They had a safe house, a home. They had the run of the city. They had protection. They had clean clothes and warm showers and constant entertainment. They had everything they needed. For the first time in a year, they were living, not just surviving, and it was because of Mae and her rickety old house and her goddamn rules…and her hard-earned money.

Money. Humans needed it like they needed water these days. David never paid for something when he didn't have to. Stealing was easy when you could just kill anyone who caught you. Mae, however, was still a human, and she needed to live within humanity's laws. If she didn't pay her bills, she lost the things she needed to survive. The only solution was for her to make more money, but she could only do that at night. It was obvious that she was afraid to go outside after dark, and she had every right to be. Her friends in L.A. seemed to be of no help so far; they had been silent ever since she'd invited the boys into her home. At this point, she was simply waiting for her enemies to find her, if the sense of inescapable doom hanging around her was anything to go by. David had promised to protect her. He never went back on his promises; that's why he made them so rarely. Would it really be so bad if he or one of his brothers helped her at her little stall, when humans crowded the boardwalk, drunk and ready to part with their money?

When sunset came, he'd discuss it with his brothers. These days, they did things as a family. He'd put it to a vote: would they stay with Mae at night, guarding her against the vampires who wanted her dead, risking their own lives in the process? Or would they leave her to figure something else out? It could be boring. It could be dangerous. They would be risking themselves for someone they had barely any history with, but then again, hadn't she already proven herself trustworthy? If she had wanted them dead, they could very well be dead by now. No, she wanted them here. She was driving herself into financial ruin to allow them to be here. She'd gone out of her way to help them, far beyond the needs of their bargain. Maybe she hadn't done anything personally for David, but anything she did for his brothers, he counted as a personal favor. His family was all he had. Family. What a loaded word. His brothers would follow him to the ends of the earth, and he would die for them in an instant. Would they do the same for Mae?

As the sun finally dragged him down into a dreamless sleep, David figured he already knew the answer.

* * *

The next day, Mae kept her stall open well into the night, Dwayne sitting behind the table with her, a worn out paperback in his hand. He didn't need the lights of the boardwalk to read by, but he pretended to, just in case. No need to spark any unnecessary suspicion, after all.

That night, Mae made more than she had in an entire week.


	5. Science Fiction Double Feature

"Hey, Marko! What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf!"

"Aw, I'm gonna miss him!"

David raised an eyebrow with the utmost disdain as Mae slid down the banister, closely followed by Marko. The two tumbled to the floor, cackling like children on uppers. Mae's hair was frizzed to high heaven, a cheap maid's outfit and a feather duster completing the look. Marko was in full greaser gear, a cut painted on his forehead with lipstick. A black wig was stuck on his head, styled liked a pompadour. Tonight was Halloween, and that could only mean one thing in the Clayton household: it was time for The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The knockoff Eddie and Magenta picked themselves up off the floor, leaning on each other as they giggled. David's brother was accompanying Mae for her annual tradition of finding the nearest shadow cast performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She'd been going for nearly eight years now and hadn't wanted to stop the ritual, despite her fear of what lay waiting in the night. Paul was off picking up chicks and Dwayne hadn't been interested. David had better things to do than listen to a bunch of weirdoes scream at a movie, so Marko had kindly offered to escort her. She'd made his costume out of old things from the thrift store, finding the wig at the costume shop on discount. They both looked nearly movie accurate, minus the blonde hair peeking out from under black locks. Mae's lipstick was already smeared, her antics on the banister ruining her careful work. For once, though, she didn't seem to care.

With a casual wave and another round of laughter, Marko and Mae disappeared off into the night. David listened to them leave, glancing around the living room as he decided what he wanted to do with himself tonight. The last few weeks had seen a rise in Mae's profits, so the bills that had once covered the entire coffee table were finally tucked away in her room. Dwayne was usually the one to watch over her, although Paul was always up for it if it meant he could flirt with the customers. David had yet to volunteer, and Marko had gone just once before being banned. Mae had said nothing about what had happened beyond a mumbled "Fucking blondes." Marko had only offered a shrug in explanation, so he let it be. Still, the two of them had been getting awfully cozy lately. Interesting. Marko never got cozy with anyone. He was usually a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy. The others might play at lovebirds for a while; even David had done it once or twice (just for fun), but never Marko. Was he being tamed? David chuckled.

He eyed a piece of paper stuck to the wall with an old penknife with displeasure. It had caused quite a bit of a stir around the house last week, leaving the roommates on edge. It was a message from Mae's friends down in Los Angeles. The note was short and printed in some very fancy cursive handwriting. All it said was that the drifters had left L.A., but so far, no one could find them. It said that the sender hoped she was well, and that they were aware of her houseguests. There was no signature. Mae explained that it was from her friend Túlio, a vampire with a flair for the dramatic. She reassured them that her friends had probably asked the San Francisco vampires to drop in from time to time and check things out, so they could stop growling about trespassers already. When David pointed out that her illustrious friends had failed to catch her tormentors, she had just shrugged and sighed. He could see right through her nonchalance, but he'd let it go. Some arguments just weren't worth having.

He heard the rumble of Marko's bike, and with a wild scream from Mae, they tore off towards town. David just rolled his eyes and switched the lights off, heading upstairs to grab Dwayne for a night on the town. The blood was always sweeter on Halloween.

* * *

"When Eddie said he didn't like his teddy, you knew he was a no-good kid!" Mae sang, hopping around like a maniac, twirling across the stage and dancing with an extraordinarily short Riff Raff. Marko whistled from the crowd, saving her seat with his jacket. Someone had pulled her up for The Time Warp, since she was the only Magenta in the crowd who wasn't high out of her mind, and they hadn't let her go since.

The crowd was fascinating. Marko liked the movie well enough, but he spent most of the show watching the audience. All of them were what his mother would have graciously called "the unusuals," her polite little word for the freaks of the world. He could swear that one of the couples in the back hadn't stopped loudly making out since before the theater had darkened. At least half the men were women, and a quarter of the women were men. You couldn't tell what at least six of the performers had in their pants. It was entertaining to see a guy who had obviously never seen the movie before nearly piss himself when he realized that the Columbia on his lap had a very jealous girlfriend. Some people had the weirdest hang-ups. It was a gathering of the outcasts, if you thought about it. Mae seemed right at home, and Marko had been in weirder places before. It was fun to let go and not be judged. He counted six guys who wanted to take him home and twenty girls who would probably go down on him in the alley if he asked. Not a bad score.

The song ended with a round of laughter as one of the Brads fell off the stage after a particularly bad attempt at a pirouette. Mae was still cackling when she sat back down in her seat, exhausted after her unexpected stint with the cast. The smell of sweat and hairspray lingered around her, but Marko found that he didn't mind it. Her scent was utterly human, alive and thick with energy. It was much nicer than the haunting strain of drugs and alcohol that most of their fellow unconventional conventionalists reeked of. He slid an arm around her shoulder, grinning when he felt her stiffen up. After a few awkward moments, she surprised him by settling into his side, her hair tickling his cheek. The armrest of the seat was the only thing separating them; her heat seeped into his cold skin, giving him a hint of color. After the incident in the shower, they had been dancing around each other, countless hesitant smiles and unconscious touches passing between them. It was different than how she interacted with Dwayne and Paul; she treated them like old friends or wayward brothers. Her dynamic with David had yet to change much beyond a wary respect despite the time his eldest brother had held Mae a few weeks before. They were easier around each other, but not much else had happened.

With Marko, however…

Mae couldn't hide that she was attracted to him. Sure, she was attracted to all of them, but it seemed that Marko had broken past her enforced platonic distance first. They all could smell the desire on her. The small glances, the twitching of her hands, the way her heartbeat sped up when one of them walked past her in a state of undress. Despite all the signals she was giving, no one had made a move on her yet. David and Paul probably didn't want to upset the balance of their lives, while Dwayne was as protective of her as he was of Laddie. Dwayne always had a thing about guarding wayward little souls, no matter how carefully he tried to hide it. Marko had no such inhibitions. He liked to stir things up. He'd caught a warning glare from David earlier that evening, a silent warning to not fuck things up between them all. Marko had just smiled and nodded. He'd take things slow. Was he after her heart? Nah. He wasn't that kind of guy.

Just as that thought passed through his head, Mae snorted and looked up at him, pointing a few rows down: two conventionalists had just stood up and began taking off their tops, revealing glittering corsets that matched the ones on screen. Her smile was soft and carefree, something he'd never seen before, even at home. Their eyes met. She winked at him, turning to hoot and holler with the rest of the crowd at the show the two were giving. He felt something warm slither down his back, and it wasn't spilled beer. Was he after her heart? Nah. But he could be convinced…

A new Riff Raff and Magenta stepped on stage, covered in gold lamé and wielding plastic laser guns. Mae was leaning against him once again, obviously tired, muttering along with the audience callbacks as the final confrontation began. She looked delicious. Never one to resist his urges, Marko nosed past her hair and blew a soft breath on the tip of her ear. She shivered, but didn't push him away. The tip of his tongue flicked out, licking the soft skin beneath it. Once again, Mae trembled, but otherwise didn't move. Lovely. Marko grinned, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear before gently biting down, the move unmistakably carnal. Just to make things clear (and more interesting), he moaned softly, just loud enough for her to hear. To anyone who cared to watch, they looked like any couple taking advantage of the dark theater to mess around. Mae shuddered again, this time answering his noises with one of her own, a breathy thing that could barely pass for a moan. She was holding back. A cheeky smile painted his face. Ready to accept the challenge of making her break, he leaned in again.

Then, the lights went on as the credits rolled, the actors took a bow, and everyone stood up to applaud. Mae hesitated before joining the others, tugging Marko up with her. When he began to let go of her shoulder, though, she put a hand over his, keeping his arm right where it was. His grin of triumph lasted well after the applause had died down and everyone was filing out.

* * *

The walk back to Marko's bike wasn't far, but it took twice as long as it should have. Every few steps, Marko would tug on Mae's skirt, or nibble on her ear, or try to cop a feel. Mae wasn't having it, although her constant laughter did little to dissuade him. They'd left his bike at the entrance to an alleyway, half in the dark. When they were in the shadows of the backstreet, Marko pushed Mae against the wall, his arms on either side of her, trapping her between the bricks and his body. His grin was wild, and for a moment, Mae gulped in fear, worried that he'd gotten hungry for a different kind of game. Of course, this didn't escape Marko's notice, and he did something very out of character: he let one hand slide down and caress her cheek, his smile softening into something gentler before returning to its original state. That relaxed her a bit; her eyes moving back up to meet his gaze once again. The air was cool, and her costume did little to keep her warm. They leaned into each other's space, the tension as palpable as the autumn breeze. Their stare was unbroken for many long moments, Mae's heartbeat ringing in Marko's ears. Finally, she took a deep breath, her chin tilting up in a challenge.

"Well, then…are you gonna kiss me, or are you just gonna stare at me all day, Marko?" Her voice was soft, breathless but fierce. A quiet laugh escaped the vampire, his eyes flashing yellow for the shortest of seconds.

"I don't know. Do you think you can handle it?" He toyed with her earlobe, flicking her earring.

"I think you're all talk and no game, kid." She scoffed, moving as if to duck under his arms. It was a bluff, but it did the trick: Marko growled and crashed his lips into hers, kissing her with an intensity born of dark hunger and sin.

He kissed like he lived: always searching, always probing, always taking people apart piece by piece. His teeth nipped her lower lip, and he took advantage of her shuddering gasp to slip his tongue into her mouth, exploring with a primal delight. She tasted like cheap candy and peppermint, her warmth a pleasant change from the cold that permeated his existence. His hands held her face, keeping her still as he mapped out her mouth, licking over teeth that could become fangs, never lingering, always moving. She tried to keep quiet, not wanting them to be discovered. Marko didn't care for this at all, eager to make her lose control. One leg slid between her thighs, pinning her to the wall, the delicious friction finally earning him his reward. His lips muffled her voice, but the soft cries were more than enough to turn him on. He smiled into the kiss, only pulling back when she pushed him away, desperate for breath. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with a covetous desire. Marko licked his lips, savoring her taste, delighting in the shiver it sent running through her body. Her lipstick stained his mouth, and for an instant she imagined that this is what he looked like after feeding. His expression was dark and lecherous. Mischief danced in his eyes. He moved in to kiss her again, but froze when he saw her staring in utter horror just beyond his shoulder.

Marko whipped around, his body instinctively moving to hide Mae from sight. Across the street, just outside the light of a streetlamp, stood a male figure. He was half in shadow, his features obscured, but his eyes glowed yellow. A vampire. Marko snarled, offering a challenge. The man stepped into the light, offering a brief glimpse of long dark hair, golden skin, and a silver skull necklace before disappearing into the sky, gone in an instant. Marko had barely been able to look away from the vampire's eyes: they glittered with a ravenous madness.

Behind him, Mae was barely holding back her whimpers, her hands clinging desperately to his arm. The scent of her fear stung his nose. Such fear was usually the most delicious of perfumes to him, but when it came from the girl behind him, it only made him want to vomit. Marko turned back to his…what were they now? Didn't matter right now. He looked her over, making sure that she wasn't going to faint. Satisfied that she'd make the journey home, he pulled her over to the bike, getting on and making sure she was holding onto him tightly before screaming off into the night. He could ask questions later. If this was what he thought it was, the safest place for her to be was home, and she needed to get there immediately. The brothers never broke their promises. He had to keep her safe.

They tore through the early morning silence, the city finally quieting down as the last of the revelers went home, bags full of candy and stomachs full of liquor. Marko would have loved to watch them go, the stragglers stripped bare of their inhibitions and their shields. It was always a fascinating study, but right now, his priorities lay with the woman gripping his jacket with all of her strength. By the time they got back to her house, she was shaking so badly that he was afraid she'd fall off. The wind and fog had pressed her hair down at bizarre angles, her makeup ruined by frightened tears, cheeks red with windburn. Marko turned off the engine and kicked the stand down. He had to pry Mae's hands from his clothes, the struggle finally breaking her out of her trance. With a quiet gasp, Mae ran for the house, fumbling for the keys in her pocket. A cry of frustration left her lips as she failed to get the key in the slot, her nerves wrecking her coordination. Marko gently took the keys from her hands and unlocked the door for her, ushering her inside. He made sure she was watching as he locked them in, trying to reassure Mae that she was safe. Paul poked his head out of the kitchen, his startled shout drawing Dwayne and David from the second floor.

Marko scooped Mae into his arms, carrying her up the stairs, not trusting her to climb them on her own without falling. Without a word, David opened the door to Mae's room, letting the two inside. When Mae was settled on a chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, the rest of the brothers filed inside, closing the door behind them. Paul sat on the floor while Dwayne leaned against the wall. David took the bed. Marko stayed kneeling next to Mae, her hand gripping his so tightly that it would have hurt anyone but a vampire. David gave her a moment to settle down before turning to Marko, his expression dangerously placid.

"Marko?" His tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of anger. The threat of retribution should Marko be the cause of her distress remained unspoken, all the more terrifying for its silence. Before Marko could explain, Mae cleared her throat.

"I saw him. One of the rogues. He's their leader. They let him eat first. The others kept looking at him for guidance. He killed…Túlio doesn't know where they came from or who they are. But those eyes…I could recognize them anywhere. They found me." Her voice hitched as she failed to fight off her panic. "They found me."

Dwayne was at her side in an instant, his arms pulling her down into an embrace as she shivered, the events of the night finally sinking in. They were coming for her. The boys looked at each other before focusing on David. The eldest felt the weight of command fall on his shoulders, their belief in his ability to fix everything as strong as ever. Paul hovered quietly behind her, his hands twitching in useless worry. David took his time, thinking things over. Comfort wasn't his forte, but here he was again, tasked with comforting their landlady. No…their sister. They'd talked it over the night Mae had cried for the first time in their presence. They all agreed. Perhaps now was the time to tell her.

David got up from the bed, moving to kneel in front of her once again. He waited until she had stopped shaking and was looking at him, making sure that she was calm enough to understand what he was saying. Paul shifted around, his hands fluttering around Mae's face, trying to wipe off the drying mascara tracks. For a brief moment, the seriousness of the situation rushed through David's mind. The rogues had finally found Mae. A confrontation was inevitable unless Mae's friends finally proved useful and came to take care of the vampires themselves. His brothers were at risk. He could still call the deal off and find them somewhere else to live. It would be difficult, but it could save their lives.

He looked at his brothers, gauging their thoughts. Paul was fidgety, Dwayne was fuming, and Marko's brain seemed to working a mile a minute. None of them looked afraid; if anything, they were just as livid as David. He tried to reason that his anger came from the vagabonds encroaching on his territory, but he wasn't stupid enough to lie to himself anymore. He didn't care about territory; this was personal. Yes. The bargain still stood.

"Mae. You know what we are. We know what you are. We made a deal: a home in exchange for protection. We won't break that promise. You're one of us now. They'll wish they'd never set eyes on you, little sister." Echoes of old words, finally spoken to someone who truly understood, who welcomed them.

Dwayne, Paul, and Marko all murmured their assent, soft repetitions of little sister ringing in her ears. Her eyes brightened, a spark of cold fury replacing the terror. She sat tall in her chair, baring her teeth in a mockery of a vampire's grin. David's answering smile was savage. His brothers laughed, the sound flinty and cruel. They couldn't turn her, not yet; the protection her power of invitation provided too great to risk, but the promise was still there.

One of us. Ours.

Little sister.


	6. Small Talk

((Hello everyone! I keep forgetting that if I want to add an author's note, I gotta do it in the doc manager. So, hello everyone! Thanks for all your lovely comments! I hope you like this chapter; I'm not super satisfied with it, but I promise that things will start to pick up next chapter! You can follow me at .com for more stuff, including a playlist, where you can find the song mentioned in this chapter. It's "Your Love" by The Outfield, one of the songs that inspired this fic! xoxo))

Josie's on a vacation far away

Come around and talk it over…

So many things that I wanna say

You know I like my girls a little bit older…

I just wanna use your love tonight…

I don't wanna lose your love tonight…

Mae's voice was barely audible over the quiet sound of the radio, but all four of her brothers could hear it as if she were there in the room with them. Halloween was over, and November had come. The clock on the wall read 3 am by the time Mae had been ushered into the shower, the boys insisting that she clean up and get comfortable. David had pushed the others out of the room, having to resort to a sire's command when they had been hesitant to leave Mae alone, even if the house was totally safe. The four had retreated back to their hidden room, the door open as they changed into their sleepwear. It was still a novelty for them to have a place to sleep that wasn't surrounded by cold stone and musty air. Over the last few months, they'd acquired more of a wardrobe than they'd had in decades, including pajamas. It was strange to see Dwayne with a shirt on, or Paul in pants that weren't painted onto his skin. Now they all sat in their little piece of paradise, talking idly while they waited for their little sister. The sturdy metal bar that Dwayne had found had been forgotten in the corner; they kept meaning to install the thing and hang from it as vampires were meant to do, but they just never got around to it. No one was quite sure why.

Their mattresses were shoved into a corner, the two twin-size beds barely big enough to hold all four of them together, but somehow they made it work. There were blankets, duvets, and pillows piled on to make the beds more comfortable, even though they had no real need for such things. A week into their stay, they had learned that their room had actually been Mae's private little getaway, a place where no one (and no thing) could find her. That had explained the little creature comforts inside. Ever since they'd taken over, however, she had rarely been inside, letting them have a private space of their own. It had taken them a long time to realize that she had given up something special of hers to make them feel safe. A year ago, they wouldn't have noticed such a thing, and even if they had, they would have simply taken it as their due. Time and death had given them a new perspective on things, especially the sacrifices one made for safety…and for family. They had tried to coax her inside a few times, but she'd always declined, saying the room was theirs now. This time, though, David had all but ordered her to join them when her shower was done. It was time for a family meeting.

The bathroom radio was switched off, drawing the boys out of their various occupations. A set of footsteps headed for their room, soft and almost hesitant. Mae poked her head inside, her skin flushed from the heat of her shower. She was dressed much like the boys, a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt doing little to protect her from the chilly autumn air. Her hair was still wet, tied up in a haphazard bun to keep it from ruining her clothes. With her face bare of Magenta's heavy makeup, she looked younger than her years, the timidity of her stance only adding to the effect. David waved her over, gesturing for Marko to toss her a blanket. The boys sat in a loose circle in the center of the room, spread out on the large shag carpet, a dilapidated remnant of the 70's. Mae sat between David and Dwayne, curling up under the throw blanket and examining the patterns on the rug. Everyone was quiet for a long moment; the only sound was the gentle static of the stereo in the corner, the local station offline for the night. As usual, it was David who broke the silence.

"I think it's time that you lay everything on the table, Mae." His voice held none of its usual malice, the hidden darkness replaced by a matter-of-fact tone. He wasn't angry, just curious. With a sigh, Mae leaned into Dwayne, letting the other pull her closer. The arm around her shoulder was cold, but the embrace was gentle and protective. She basked in it for a moment before finding the strength to lift her eyes to meet David's calculating gaze.

"You want the whole story? Fine." She sighed, taking a moment to gather herself. "I had just finished my degree. I have a bachelors in medieval history. I always liked the idea of fairytale princes and dragons and castles, but growing up the way I did, I knew that those kinds of things could never be real. There was no such thing as knights who came to rescue fair maidens for no reward other than a courtly kiss. Still, I wanted to be as close to it as possible, so that's what I studied. I still have no idea what I was going to do with myself afterwards." Mae's signature big city patter was coming back, mashing words together as she forced the tale out as fast as she could, eager to get this over with.

"I met Túlio when I went looking for a roommate in sophomore year. My freshman roommate in the dorms was moving to this apartment building not far from campus, so I decided to split the rent with her. A few weeks before school started, she dropped out and moved to another university, so I was desperate. The place was clean and relatively safe for Los Angeles, so I had no shortage of applicants, but half of them were druggies and the others were creepers. Most of the nicer kids already had a place. Túlio seemed clean enough, handsome and charming. I figured that I'd probably have to put up with a string of girlfriends coming in and out at all hours, but he could afford the rent and didn't have a criminal record, as far as I could tell. So he moved in. It should've struck me as odd that we met at night, but I figured he had things to do all day. Nope. I was totally wrong. I had just moved in with a vampire."

Marko cackled in the corner, something in Mae's expression cracking him up. Mae picked up a book and threw it at him, missing completely.

"Asshole. Anyway, I never saw him during the day, but his door was always closed. I figured he had night classes now that the quarter had started. It wasn't unusual, so I just left him alone. After a while, though, we started chatting instead of just saying hi at random hours. He'd tell me about his friends or his daily activities. Something was always off, though: he never mentioned doing anything during the day. Like, ever. Every now and then, the bottom of the shower would be pink, but I figured it was the red hair dye he kept trying. He looked awful in it. Point being, he always put me on edge. I liked him, though; he always acted like a gentleman around me, and he never left the place dirty. He even helped me pay the bills if I ever got behind. A whole year passed like this. I met his friends: Veronica, Dollar Fifty, Miguel, and Casper. I thought they were like a street gang or something, so I didn't ask questions. Thing is, they seemed to forget that humans don't always fall asleep right away. At night, I'd hear them talk about…things. Strange things. Blood and fangs and covens, laws and councils. I thought they were cultists or something on top of being a gang. Weird Mexican bruja shit or whatever. And then one night, I was just coming out of my room to get some tea before bed…and there was Dollar Fifty, bleeding out on my couch. Everyone froze, and I watched in horror as his wounds sealed themselves shut. I fainted." She shivered, remembering the wound. It should have killed him, but she knew better now.

"Dollar Fifty is a big guy. Tall, wide, built like a football player. His guts were nearly hanging out. He should've been dead. I was lucky that I'd been living with Túlio for so long, otherwise I think they would have killed me on sight. As it was, my roommate pleaded my case with Miguel, the coven leader. When I woke up, everyone except Miguel was gone. He asked me what I knew, if anything. I figured that if I was gonna die, I'd die an honest woman, so I told him everything. I had heard about the councils. The laws. The killings. I thought it was just gang talk, so I never said anything to Túlio. Miguel's this ancient vampire, older than the Crusades. They have this way of seeing inside of you, knowing what you know, seeing what you see. He saw that I was telling the truth, so he let me live. If I hadn't spilled their secrets yet, I wouldn't do it now. So they kind of adopted me after that. From then on, I was included in 'family' business, you might say. I even got invited to Miguel's house, this old Victorian thing up in Echo Park. No one was supposed to know where it was, but they trusted me with it. I was kind of the family pet, I guess." She laughed, remembering how they'd all call her 'kitten' or 'puppy' when they felt like teasing her.

"If you were in so deep with them, why didn't they ever turn you?" David asked, his brows furrowing. This was a lot to process: ancient vampires in old houses, college roommates with fangs, humans kept as family pets? So this was how other vampires lived…

"I don't know. No one ever really brought it up, and I never asked. I was so caught up in college that I kind of forgot how messed up this all was. I was friends with killers, but I also had term papers due, and my priorities have always been a little…weird. They were always kind to me, always protecting me or helping me out when money was tight. And it isn't unusual for humans to be part of a vampire's extended coven, apparently. They weren't even half-bloods, ready to join in at any moment. Some of the vampires had human girlfriends or boyfriends. Veronica was my girlfriend for a few years, but we never got really serious. I think Miguel was married once..." She was cut off by a sharp intake of breath.

"Girlfriend?" Paul's eyebrows shot up practically to his hairline. This was the first time Mae had ever mentioned such a thing. "You're gay?"

"No. I'm bi. I like both." Mae tensed up, her eyes growing cold and steely. The boys could see her defenses shoring up, and they realized that she must have lost friends or family over this before. She was preparing for rejection. "What is it to you?" She snarled, jutting her chin out in defiance. David grinned, luxuriating in her anger.

"Nothing, really!" Paul lifted his hands up in a placating gesture. "Dude, we're the same." Mae froze, eyes wide.

"Really!?" She gasped. "All you ever talk about is girls!"

"Because he's always been into chicks more than dudes, babe." Marko laughed, delighting in Mae's embarrassed blush. "We're vampires, Mae. Who needs labels when you're dead? Sex is sex." He licked his lips, winking at their landlady.

"You accepted us, even when you didn't need to, Mae. So what if you like girls too? Even if we actually cared about such things, which we don't, we'd still be here." David shrugged. "There are worse things than being queer."

"Like being into Barry Manilow." Paul shuddered dramatically, causing Mae to break out in giggles. He grinned; mission accomplished. The tension was gone.

"Okay, so back on track, kids: how did you end up getting hunted down by a bunch of psychos?" David raised an eyebrow, wanting his explanation already. Mae sighed, shifting against Dwayne's side, stretching her legs before curling up against him again.

"So, after graduation, long after I'd broken up with Veronica, or rather, she'd broken up with me, it's a long story…anyway, Túlio had the brilliant idea that we should all go out for the Fourth of July. The vampires could feed, and the humans could act as alibis if the police noticed that dead people were starting to show up. I wasn't exactly keen on being an accessory to murder on a holiday, but Dollar Fifty had offered to buy everyone booze all night, so I tagged along. We crashed a block party at Pershing Square. It was chaos, which means that Túlio was having the time of his life. He was entertaining a whole group of women, and a few guys, even though he really shouldn't have. Even in L.A., it's dangerous to be out in the open, if you know what I mean. You never know who you can trust." She bit her lip, remembering the horror stories some of the gay guys at school had told her. With a shiver, she quickly moved on.

"Anyway, the weather had been weird, so people were starting to get cold long before midnight rolled around. Some assholes decided to start a fire, so the cops came and shooed everyone away. I got separated from the gang, pushed down an alley. I was just about to head back to the Square, since we'd taken the subway to get there, but then…I saw them. They were on the other end of the alley: three vampires, all of them covered in blood. They'd already killed two people and were about to eat a third when the leader noticed me. He's tall and dark, with black hair and golden skin. The other two were harder to see, but one was pale and blonde. The other looked Asian with purple hair. I'm sure they've tossed the clothes they were wearing, but they were all dressed like street punks." Mae paused for breath, her words smashing together as she relived that terrible night.

"They caught sight of me after they slit the third guy's throat. It was horrible…they didn't even do it right, so the guy was screaming. I gagged, and they heard me. All of those eyes on me, so yellow and cold…it was horrible. I ran. I made it down into the station without being followed, or so I thought. Just as I ran into a car, I saw them, still covered in blood. They didn't care. It was lucky for the vampires that I was one of the only people there, and everyone else was drunk or high. The train pulled away before they could get to me. I met back up with Túlio at the next station. Two days later, I was on my way to Santa Carla."

Mae was trembling by the time she was finished, both of Dwayne's arms wrapping around her as he hauled her onto his lap. She smiled softly, squeezing his hand in thanks. The others were quiet for a long time, processing the story. Some vampires hated letting a victim go so much that they became obsessed with finding them and killing them once and for all. These men seemed to be that type of vampire. Marko had seen the crazy in the eyes of their leader; he knew that when the fight came, it would be messy. David scratched his chin, thinking things over.

"Something doesn't quite add up…" He murmured, turning back to Mae. "L.A.'s a long ways from Santa Carla. How did they find you so fast? Surely your scent would have long since disappeared."

"I don't know. I'll call Túlio tomorrow, see if he knows anything." Mae bit her lip. "I doubt that they know that I'm friends with Miguel and his coven. If they did, I think they would have looked there first, and no one gets past Dollar Fifty."

"Okay, something else has been bugging me about all this." Paul frowned, drawing everyone's attention. He paused for a moment before he broke out in a Cheshire grin. "Who the hell names their kid Dollar Fifty?"

Everyone groaned, books or nearby pillows getting thrown at the youngest blonde, who only laughed in response. David allowed it, knowing that his youngest brother was trying to distract everyone from their dark thoughts. It was time to let things rest for a while; Mae had just gone through a rough night, and they needed time to process what she'd told them. Dwayne started talking about something innocuous, and soon they all found themselves in a deep discussion about the merits of hair metal versus mainstream rock. Half an hour passed like this, just a family decompressing after a long night. The clock read four am by the time they ran out of things to say, but the ensuing silence was pleasant, broken by the soft sounds of the Heart cassette Mae had slipped into the stereo some time ago. The five of them were strewn across the thick rug, looking up at the ceiling. Mae was in the center, half lying on Dwayne's chest, while her right leg tangled with Marko's left. David lay on Dwayne's other side, and Paul was closest to the stereo, fiddling with the strings of the shag carpet. The cassette switched to something gentler, a ballad, and Marko piped up.

"Uh, Mae…you wanted me to kiss you, right?"

Mae frowned, rolling over to look Marko in the eye. "Yeah, I wanted it. Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure."

"Yeah, I get that, but wasn't it obvious?"

"We're vampires, Mae, not assholes." Marko growled.

"That's debatable…"

Marko gave her a little shove, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious, Mae. I know I read the signs right, but…we're family. I didn't wanna assume or anything."

Mae smiled, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "You're absolute shit at this, Marko." She giggled as she ducked, barely avoiding the hand that tried to smack her on the forehead.

"Yes, I wanted it. Yes, I'm fine with you kissing me again. Blanket permission, except when I'm working. I know you're not used to making the effort to be a good…whatever in the hell we are, but I'm glad that you're trying. Caring is hard, isn't it? I'm not very good at it either. I'm used to having to protect myself, even from the people I love. No one stays. No one's ever been reliable before. But I'm willing to trust you guys, if you'll trust me. Got it?"

A relieved smile crossed Marko's face, before it turned into something impish. "So...going back to kissing…"

"Oh my god, Marko! We're supposed to be having a moment here!" Paul groaned, smacking his brother upside the head with amazing accuracy for a man whose eyes were squeezed shut.

As she listened to her brothers arguing, Mae leaned back against Dwayne, imagining that she could see the stars through the roof. It felt good, letting go and trusting again…even if that meant trusting a gang of bloodthirsty vampires.

Families were weird.

* * *

The day after Halloween, they had all decided that Mae would continue on as normal. Even though some of her brothers were against it, Mae didn't want the rogues to know that she was afraid of them. Still, two of her brothers now accompanied her at night, guarding her as she sold her wares to the growing crowds. School holidays were coming up, which meant more customers and more money. Things were looking up on that front, at least. Marko still had a ban on helping her at the stall, but that didn't stop him from popping in at the strangest times to kiss her. The little shit loved making her jump out of her skin with a shiver-inducing kiss to her neck before dancing away, narrowly avoiding whatever she was threatening to throw at him. The others were calmer escorts, although Paul still flirted with everything that moved. The fact that he did it with his hand on her ass sometimes only made things more amusing. Boundaries were quickly dissolving, it seemed.

She had yet to sleep with Marko, but she was in no rush. She swore that the others had a betting pool going about when they'd finally just bang, and she'd asked Dwayne to place a bet and split the winnings with her. To be honest, the constant threat to her life made her less than amorous, even with her (whatever he was) constantly flirting with her. Although she sometimes found herself tugged into a make out session by Marko, they would stop before things go too heavy. She was sure that the others were still pulling tail along the pier when they weren't busy helping her, even Marko, but she didn't mind. They all belonged to themselves. Exclusivity wasn't an issue. Promises had never been made, but they all knew where they went home to when the sun began to rise.

Mae stretched out on the bed, trying to convince her body that it was time to get up, not go back to sleep. A week had passed since the Halloween incident. She'd begun taking naps during the day so she could be more alert during her night shift at the stall. Sometimes she was sure that she saw one or more of the rogue vampires hanging around the edges of her vision, but when she turned to look, there was no one there. The strangest thing was that she had begun seeing the same old lady lurking around the pier, hidden in the shadows of whatever was nearby. She had never seen her before this, so Mae assumed that she was a vacationer or one of those rich old bags who had a vacation home somewhere in the richer parts of the city. The woman looked like the mother of one of the ladies on Dynasty, stuffy and self-assured. She had done nothing to be worried about, so Mae hadn't said anything to the others. Not yet, anyway.

A call to Túlio had offered no relevant information after Halloween. The vampires of L.A. had said nothing about where she had gone, and they had used an elaborate system of post office boxes to send mail to her. A bunch of hyped-up psychopaths couldn't have tracked her that way. It was a dead end. Mae was frustrated, but she trusted that her friends were telling the truth. It was inconceivable that they would sell her out, especially to a coven of rogues. No, it had to be something else.

While things with her other brothers were going well, Mae's precarious relationship with David was deteriorating fast. David was plotting something, she could tell. What it was, she couldn't figure out, but he seemed to be as irritated as she was. Whenever Mae asked him about said plans, he said nothing, telling her to just let him deal with it. That answer was unacceptable, and Mae began pushing. This was her life after all, and brother or not, Mae was the one in danger here, not him. They began to argue, bickering loudly about who was in charge. Control was an issue for both of them, it seemed. Mae owned the house and let them stay there, but David was the eldest and the leader of their family. They were deadlocked. Tension rose, and the others started avoiding them whenever they were in a fighting mood. Mae's preferred way to deal with household trouble was to carry on as if it wasn't happening in the first place. David seemed inclined to do the same; whenever they weren't arguing, they were giving the other the cold shoulder. As November crawled on, the family learned to skirt around the issue of Mae's enemies, and balance was slowly restored.

And so life carried on: Mae sold jewelry during the day, came home for dinner, and went back to sell to the night crowd. Her brothers would guard her and she would take care of them. Business as usual. Things were going about as normally as possible in the Clayton household, despite the specter of the rogues hanging over their heads.

Of course, that's when things went to fucking hell in an antique handbasket.


	7. An Immovable Object

((I banged this one out pretty fast. It ran away from me. I initially wanted to compare Mae to Star, but they're so fundamentally different that it didn't work out that way. This isn't meant to bash Star; David's just been betrayed, so his opinion of her is tarnished by her defection. Also, comments feed my soul! Thanks guys!))

Thanksgiving had come and gone, leaving behind lackluster Black Friday sales and chintzy Christmas decorations littering the pier. The weather was cold, winds constantly blowing in from the sea. Despite the chill (well, it was chilly for this part of the world, anyway), the tourism trade had only grown stronger. People from snowier parts of the world liked to flock to the California beaches if they could to experience the curious phenomenon known as a green Christmas. Rain occasionally fell, but nothing too extreme. Mae's little stall had been upgraded to a real booth, a roof included. She hung seashell string lights from it, the glass colored red and green in deference to the holiday cheer surrounding her. Mae wasn't very religious herself; she was agnostic, firmly holding the belief that there was a God, and he was constantly laughing at his children on earth. Free will had a terrible price, and it dumbfounded her that people clung so fervently to their chosen church just so they could relinquish responsibility for their foolish actions, even if that church was a hotbed of sin and corruption. Still, Christmas could be fun, from a secular point of view. Santa was fun, the sales were nice, and everyone at least tried to be nicer to each other. Good will towards man seemed to be a dying art, but it was nice to pretend that things were fine for one month out of the year.

Things were not fine at home.

Oh, sure, Mae was perfectly content with how things were with three of her brothers: a loving friendship with Paul and Dwayne, and a…something with Marko. They all hung out as they always did, sharing music and meals (the regular kind) and the occasional trip to the pier just for fun. Once or twice, she had acted as a wingwoman for Paul, helping him snag whatever girl caught his eye that night. It was never the same girl twice, but he seemed to have a preference for blondes. Like attracted like, it seemed. Whenever he came home, he had another oddball story to tell Mae over a shot of whiskey, the two lingering by the stereo for hours if they had the time. The banister was never safe when they were around, sliding competitions and sporadic games of tag making the old wood creak and shiver under their weight.

Dwayne was ever her silent bodyguard, never leaving her side if the sun had set, save for those few times he let his brothers guard her instead. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others to keep her safe; it's just that it was his way of showing her he cared. While Paul offered laughter and dancing as tokens of his esteem, Dwayne gave gentle affection and quiet support. He still had yet to tell Mae about his past, about the mother he'd lost, the family he'd wanted to build ever since he was a starving child, but he had a feeling she knew anyway. Perhaps not the whole story, no, but he knew that she could read him like an open book. Deadbeat birth families were all alike, no matter the century. They shared silences and good books and knowing glances. Maybe it wasn't as verbal as Paul's effusive friendliness, but it was enough. More than enough.

Mae and Marko had yet to put a name on whatever in the hell was happening between them. Marko was more than content to let the mystery remain; despite his fondness for her, Marko still enjoyed playing games, and he delighted in the way his silence kept her unbalanced. He wasn't cruel enough to leave her hanging forever, but he had yet to figure things out himself. Better to let her think he had the upper hand instead of admitting his indecisiveness. Of course, Mae was no slouch in the brain department either, and she was beginning to see through his tricks. Things would come to a head soon enough, and they'd both have to make a decision. Sure, she was enjoying the kissing and the touching, the feeling of being like a giddy teenager all over again, sneaking away to make out before running home for curfew. It was nice to have something physical like this, but she wanted more. Marko wasn't the type for commitment, or even just a long-term fling, and she struggled to reconcile her desire for him and her acceptance of who he was. As with many things, Mae just surged ahead, leaving the problem for another day. Was it healthy? No, but she had bigger fish to fry right now…like David.

David was pissing her off, if she was being honest about it (and she was). He seemed to be wrestling with a solution to their problems, but he said nothing to his family about his plans. It drove Mae crazy. Lies and secrecy were things she had absolutely no time for. It was one thing to hide the truth from strangers, guarding your secrets from people who may wish to do you harm, but she was family now…or was she? Mae was beginning to wonder. She was a straightforward type, unused to and unwilling to play games with the truth. Time and tide waited for no man, and Mae was like a rushing river: if she found an obstacle in her path, she wore it down, even if it took an aeon. The mountain may seem tall and proud, but it would crumble beneath an endless rain. She would get to the bottom of this, sooner or later. David refused to talk to her; even their arguments had stopped. He couldn't command her to drop the matter, so he was never around to be argued with in the first place. Even if he had nothing to offer in the way of a solution, she just wanted him to sit down and talk things out. Her life was more important than his stupid fucking ego. She would not die because her goddamn brother wouldn't act like a grown man.

Her mind made up, Mae waited impatiently outside of the secret door as the sun set behind the trees, waiting for her brothers to rise. If David wouldn't come to her, she'd come to him. The others could stay and listen or fuck off for all she cared. This was getting settled tonight. Short of being literally thrown out, Mae wasn't moving, not until she had her answers.

The sun disappeared, and the door creaked open.

* * *

David was just about ready to climb up the walls, literally. The leader of the pack wasn't used to being challenged by his family. The few times they ever questioned what he said, he either shut them up with a sire's command, or Max overruled him. Now that the old man was dead, David had free reign of his coven, and they had yet to have any major conflicts between themselves. After the Emerson incident, his brothers had followed him with unquestioning loyalty, as was his due. He had saved them from everlasting death. He was the eldest brother, the king of Santa Carla. Besides, he had yet to lead them astray; the Emerson thing was Max's fault, not his. Even Star and Laddie had been Max's idea. David had been against them from the start, only putting up with them because of Max's command.

Star had her uses, of course, and Laddie had kept her happy and out of the way, but beyond acting as bait for hunts, she was a burden. At least Laddie was a kid; he had an excuse for doing nothing. Star had been too human, too weak, too needy. He despised such indecisiveness. Did she want to be a vampire or not? Apparently, the answer had been not. She had betrayed them. He had let her into the fold, given her a taste of the night, and how had she repaid him? She ran off with Michael, clinging on to the first human who offered her a ride out of town. She'd even helped him kill his brothers. That bitch! No one betrayed his family. No one. He wished he'd been able to tear out her throat. Red was never her color.

Thinking of Star inevitably led to thinking of Michael. It was a train of thought he hated to entertain, but lately, it had consumed him. Guilt gnawed at him every time he thought of the brunet: guilt that he hadn't seen to the heart of the man, guilt that he'd trusted Max, guilt that he hadn't killed Michael when he'd had the chance. Star had been aiming to leave them the moment she could, but she would have left with anyone. She wasn't meant to be one of them. Michael, though…Michael had seemed like he'd fit right in. Sure, he was having a hard time letting go of his humanity, but they'd all been like that at some point. Even Marko had expressed some regrets after he'd been turned, but they hadn't lasted for long. Michael would be the same, or so David thought.

Max wanted a family, and he was going to get one. David had been against it, but he could come around to it if it meant that Michael would be their newest brother. He saw darkness in the boy, something cruel and vicious. David had wanted to coax it out, bring it into the moonlight and nurture it. The massacre at the bonfire had been overkill, a display of power meant to make Michael give in to the need for blood. They were never so careless with their meals. David should have known that it wasn't meant to be when Michael had held himself back, refusing the call. He should have known. He should have seen the signs, and his brothers had paid the price for his foolishness. He wouldn't fail them again. He would destroy these rogues and bring them safety once again.

His obsession with protecting his family was tainting their everyday lives. Even Dwayne, his oldest and most loyal brother, was beginning to avoid him. David had been left alone with his thoughts every night for a solid week. He had no idea what to do next beyond using Mae as bait to lure the rogues out, but it would put them at a huge disadvantage: they'd have to protect Mae and kill the rogues at the same time. It was too risky. A vampire with no inhibitions was a powerful enemy indeed. David ruled with an iron fist, never compromising. Family first. If just one of his brothers wanted out of this deal, he'd slit Mae's throat himself and fly them all out of town before the sun rose again. No. No, he couldn't do that. Mae was family now. They'd all decided on it. She was their sister. The others had wanted her, and David had offered her a place among them. He'd made a promise.

But what good was she, really? Besides the roof over their head, which had been a necessity for all of one night before being rendered pointless, she had nothing to give them. Sure, clean clothes and a living space were nice, but they'd done without before. They didn't need such human trappings. They were beyond them. Mae was human. Mae was weak. She knew so many things, but it had taken her ages to share with them. Oh, sure, she was probably just holding onto her trump cards for as long as possible, but he had played this game far longer than she ever had. He was king. What other secrets was she hiding? His brothers were all wrapped around her fingers. They'd adopted her, but was she a sister, or a pet? It seemed that vampires were inclined to keep a favored human around. Is that what she was, a favorite, a kept woman to be discarded once they were bored? Why were they risking their lives for someone so…insignificant? If her friends in L.A. cared about her so much, why weren't they here to protect her? Why did David have to do their job for them.

If David was being honest with himself, he actually liked Mae. She had a healthy fear of him, as she should, but she didn't let it stop her from challenging him at every turn. Mae kept his brothers in check as easily as he did, without the vampiric powers David possessed. She had a mind of her own, a spirit made strong by years of hardship. A lifetime of taking care of herself gave her wisdom, intensity, and a drive few had at her age. Despite all the odds, she'd gotten an education all on her own, and she supported herself with no one to catch her if she fell. David admired that about her. It reminded him of his own humble beginnings, caught up in a world that could care less whether he lived or died. Perhaps that was the problem: they were too alike. They were headstrong and independent, used to controlling their own destiny. His ability to force the ones he'd created didn't work on her, making him have to actually work for his dominance. So far, she'd always bowed to his demands, small as they were. Now, though, with her life squarely on the line, she just wouldn't listen to him. Even though he respected her tenacity, if she didn't leave him alone, he was going to destroy something. His brothers trusted him, so why wouldn't she?

These thoughts raged through his mind as he woke from his deathly slumber, the sunset releasing him from his troubled dreams. He rose from his bed, stepping over a still-sleeping Paul as he dressed for the night. It was a puzzlement, to be sure. She had entrusted them with her protection, so why was she constantly fighting him? He knew better than her what vampires were capable of. He'd fought a great many of them when Max had taken over Santa Carla at the turn of the century. These rogues were dangerous, yes, but he could figure something out. Tonight, he'd talk to her. He'd put her in her place. They were a family, but he was the leader. She'd either accept that, or they'd have a problem.

With that, he opened the door, only to be greeted by five feet and seven inches of furious brunette. Shit.

* * *

Three pairs of eyes watched what would one day be known as the stare down of the century. Quietly, one by one, the three brothers slid past their leader and their only sister as they stood at a standstill. The click of the front door shutting finally pulled Mae and David out of their glowering contest. With a huff, David turned back into the room, leaning against the far wall with his eyebrow raised. So this was happening now. Great. Mae stepped inside, crossing her arms and raising her chin in defiance. The room smelled of sleep and laundry detergent, the distinctive scent of cigarettes lingering beneath it all; it did nothing to calm Mae down. With a snarl in her voice, she spoke first.

"Okay, David. I've had it up to here with you!" She growled. "What the fuck is going on? If you haven't fucking forgotten, it's my life you're messing with here! I know damn well that you and the others can cut out whenever you want, but I'm the one who has to live with all of this. So you either clue me in on your plans or I'll…I'll…damnit! I don't fucking know what I'll do, but it'll be painful, I promise you that!"

At any other time, her threats would have amused him, but David was in no mood for such things. With a snarl of his own, he bared his fangs, his eyes going yellow. He was a fearsome sight to behold, and he knew it.

"I've put up with your insubordination long enough, Mae. In case you've forgotten, I can kill you without a second thought. It's only because you're useful that I'm even bothering to let this go unpunished." His words were meant to hurt, and he felt a sick satisfaction when he saw Mae deflate. He ignored the nagging voice in his head that told him to stop now before it was too late; the pressure of protecting his family, Mae included, had driven him to the edge. He was in no mood to be gentle anymore.

"You've been lucky enough to be granted my kindness until now, but you obviously have forgotten who you're dealing with. I've been a vampire for over a century, little girl. I've seen things and done things that would make your skin crawl right off. I've killed more men than you've met in your entire life. I rule this city, and I rule my brothers. What I say goes. If you want to be part of this family, you play by my rules, or you don't play at all. Right now, we need you to be human so we can keep the power of invitation handy, just in case. The minute it's over, however, I'm turning you just so I can finally get you to shut up. You need us, Mae. We don't need you. Never forget that."

Mae was silent for several terrible moments. David watched her ever-expressive eyes shift from incredulous, to hurt, to angry, to blank. Shit. The few times she'd ever looked like that, it had meant nothing but trouble. David always fought when he was challenged; Mae was no exception. He cut deep and hard as quickly as possible. The streets were unforgiving, and so was he. Now, though…he may have awakened a monster.

"…You think I haven't seen things? You ignorant fuck." Mae's voice was quiet, but no less terrifying for its softness. "I ran with vampires older than anything you've ever seen. I watched them tear people apart and did nothing, even as their victims begged for mercy, for my help. I led people into their den without remorse. Sure, most of them were low-level thugs or violent addicts, but they were still people. My people. Humans. And I felt nothing." Her eyes met his, their hollowness carved out by years of running in the night.

"None of us did. I met humans who enjoyed the killings, who lived vicariously through their friends and lovers. They disgusted me, but who am I to judge? I washed blood from my hands just as often as Túlio or Veronica did. I saw vampires executed for nearly exposing us all. There are worse ways to die than by the sun, but oh, the councils have it down to an art. Thank whatever god there is that I never fucked up around them." She shivered. "I meant nothing to them, in the end. I know that. It's why they aren't here. Sure, I'm nice to have around, but what's a human to an immortal? I'm just another pet. Another diversion. There are plenty of people like me out there. There always will be. I know that. They've done what they consider to be their best. They care more about the rogues than about me. If those assholes kill me, so what? I'm replaceable. Always have been." Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she ignored them. She'd moved beyond the pain long ago, or so she told herself.

"Maybe you'll kill me, David. Maybe you'll decide I'm not worth it. But I'll tell you this much: you don't scare me. You never have. Any fear you see from me is a human's natural, uncontrollable fear of death. None of it is voluntary. I've dealt with vampires that make you look like a fucking baby. You want me gone? Fine, I'll leave. You want me dead? Go ahead. Do it. It'll be a fucking mercy. I'd rather not let the rogues get their hands on me. They'll make it slow. You're so young and angry. You'll do it fast. So go on, follow through. Kill me. You'd be doing me a fucking favor!" She screamed at him, her expression as fearsome as any vampire's.

David growled, pushing off the wall, his eyes flashing in the dim light. He was across the room faster than human eyes could see. He pinned Mae to the wall, his hands gripping her shoulders so tightly that he could feel the bones creak beneath her skin. She'd hit a nerve, and she knew it. Their eyes locked, her stare glittering with furious triumph.

"You can't control me, David. Sire's command or not, I will always question you. Don't take my very real, very reasonable fear for my life as a sign of weakness. No one wants to die. No one, not even you. Something happened to you in the past, something that makes all of you afraid. I know it nearly tore you apart, but nothing gives you the right to take it out on me. We're family now, or so you said. I love all of you, yes, even you, you absolute fucking bastard. You want to hurt me? Congratulations, it fucking worked! But I'm still not going to let this go." She leaned forward as much as she could, their faces mere inches apart.

"You made me a promise, David. I know all about promises. They're made to be broken. You want to break your vows? Fine. Go ahead, but know that you'll lose not only me, but your family as well. Family sticks together, no matter what, but a betrayal like this will destroy everything you've ever built. I gave you my blood, sweat, and tears, David. Stop hiding behind bravado and ice-cold eyes. Stop pushing your insecurities onto me." She leaned in, her voice buzzing into his ear.

"We're alike, you and I. We've been hurt. Betrayed. Used and cast aside by the ones we counted on to protect us. Someone deceived you, all of you, not so long ago. No one will tell me what happened, but I can piece it together. Túlio never told me how Max died, just that he was dead after trying to find himself a bride. Maybe it was Max's prize that put the knife in your back. Maybe it was someone else. It doesn't matter. You let a human into the fold, and they nearly destroyed you all. Max died, and then there was silence in Santa Carla for months on end. Then you reappeared, whole and healthy, but hollow on the inside. Am I close?"

David trembled, his eyes flashing back and forth between yellow and grey. Mae shook as well, the force of David's grip bruising her skin. Seeing this, he finally let go, turning his back to her, growling and gnashing his teeth. Mae leaned against the wall, hissing as the hard wood aggravated her injuries.

"And now, you don't want it to happen again. You've let me in. I'm a human. I brought danger with me. The thing is, you've known this all along, David. What's so different now? Is it that I've finally gotten under your skin? Are you afraid that I'll take your brothers from you? What is it? Talk to me, David! All I ever wanted was for you to talk to me. Tell me your plans. Tell me your fears. I haven't laughed at you yet, and I never will. You've seen me at my worst, David. I never used to cry in front of other people, and you've seen me cry twice! For me, that's a lifetime's worth of vulnerability. We're family, David. That means something to me. You made me your sister. Now let me be your sister! Talk!"

For a tenuous moment, there was only silence. Mae's ragged breathing was the only noise in the house. Even the clock made no sound. Finally, quietly, David began to speak. He told her everything: Max's never-ending search for a wife, how he met his brothers, how Star and Laddie came to them. His voice broke on Michael's name, the man who had betrayed them all, who had caused their downfall. Nothing was left out. He spoke in gruesome detail about the Frogs and Sam Emerson, how they killed his brothers one by one, starting with Marko in the cave. He recounted the horror he felt when he woke up in the Emerson's house, alone and in excruciating pain. Mae sank to the floor, her sobs muffled by her hands as he told her about how long it had taken for his brothers to reawaken, how Dwayne had suffered when his soul returned too early, how they had only had each other to lean on afterwards. They trusted no one, not anymore. They had lost too much. By the time he was done, Mae was openly crying once again. When he finally turned around, she was fuming, trembling with rage. He smiled despite the drying tears that were painfully stretching his skin.

"If Michael Emerson or Star ever return to Santa Carla, I swear that they'll leave in pieces so tiny you could fit them in a fucking ring box!" She roared, pushing herself back onto her feet, only to cry out in pain. David hurried over, catching her before she fell. They stared at each other for a second before bursting out in manic laughter. The wound had been drained. The pain of the last year was finally out in the open. Mae knew. She knew, and she was angry for them. She wanted Star and the Emerson's dead. She didn't judge him for his fear. She understood.

David cupped her face in his palms, watching her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Maybe he was. They were seeing each other stripped bare of their shields, layers upon layers of walls torn down at long last. Her rage was glorious. She had never looked more beautiful than she did now, flushed red with fury, her teeth bared as if she already had fangs. It finally clicked for him, the thing that made his brothers care for her so: she had chosen them, ride or die. She had seen through them and found something worth fighting for. Her breath fanned his face, warm in the cold winter air, her heartbeat drumming beneath his fingertips. He could feel her leaning towards him, and he pulled her closer, his lips sealing over hers.

The kiss was hard and possessive. She was his. His sister. His family. His. His to protect. His to defend. Someday, she would be his in every way, bound to him as sire and fledgling. She belonged with them, to them, David and Dwayne and Marko and Paul, but at the same time, they belonged to her. They were all so inextricably intertwined now, a tangled spider's web of affection and intimacy and devotion. His tongue pushed into her mouth, chasing the taste of tea and sugar and something unidentifiable. He savored her moans as his hand wandered down her back, squeezing her ass as he drew her impossibly closer.

For several long, wonderful moments he dominated the kiss, taking and giving as he pleased. Then, with a soft gasp, Mae came back to herself, her hands tangling in his hair as she bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood. She took advantage of his shock to explore his mouth, her tongue catching on his fangs as the pain made him shift to something more monstrous. His eyes went yellow as her blood filled his mouth, her whimper of pain drowned out by his groan of delight. Mae pulled away from the kiss, grumbling about sharp teeth and horny vampires, much to David's amusement. He leaned down and licked her lips, catching the stray drops of blood clinging to her skin. She swatted him away.

"Ass."

"You love it."

"Fuck you."

"With pleasure."

"Ugh!" Mae rolled her eyes, rushing out of the room. He heard the tap in the bathroom turn on, the occasional expletive echoing through the house as Mae cleaned herself up. David only laughed, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. Delicious.

* * *

Later that night, the three errant brothers returned home to Mae and David curled up on the couch, the brunette lying with her head on David's lap as she slept. A raised eyebrow from David silenced any vulgar remarks from his cheekier brothers. Shrugging, Paul dragged Dwayne upstairs, talking quietly about something they'd seen on the pier. Marko stared at them for a minute; the scene was nearly identical to the time David had found Mae worrying over the bills. This time, though, Marko joined them on the couch, putting Mae's legs on his lap before turning his attention to whatever was on TV. They sat in silence until the sun began to rise. There was nothing to say. Marko already knew.

When Mae woke up a few hours later, she was covered in a long black jacket. David. She smiled, snuggling even further into the couch. A pillow was wedged beneath her head, but it was scratchy. Huh. She turned her head to examine it. What kind of pillow was this? It wasn't a pillow at all; it was a jacket covered in worn Technicolor patches, bunched up and horribly wrinkled. Marko. Mae checked the clock perched on top of the TV. She had a few hours before she had to get up. With a quiet yawn, she pulled the jacket up higher, falling back into an easy sleep as the sun's rays warmed her face.

That night, the jackets were folded neatly over the back of the couch, the tags from the best dry cleaners still stuck to their collars. Mae left no note, but they understood.

They always did.


	8. Black Widow

((Hey everyone! This one took a while to iron out. Sorry for the wait! As always, comments are the blood that feeds my dark soul. Did I just say that out loud...? Muahaha!))

An hour after sunset, Mae stomped down the stairs, her boot heels making a dull thud on the old wood with every step she took. Mae had woken the boys up that evening by bursting in as soon as the sun had set, still rumpled after an impromptu nap on the couch. Since then, she'd thrown on some leggings and shirtdress, her hair still windswept from her day on the pier. Paul thought she looked like an extra from a Pat Benatar music video. She grabbed a jean jacket from the back of the sofa, the large Buckaroo Banzai double B patch on the back surprisingly spotless, having survived her college years relatively unscathed. She'd forced Paul to watch "The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension" three times already, claiming that the sci-fi flick was the best movie ever made. He didn't think so, but it made her happy, and she even let him smoke weed inside the house whenever they watched it (after opening all the windows and making him sit by the door), so he was inclined to like it.

He'd never taken her for a huge nerd, but their late night movie-and-music sessions usually revolved around whatever blockbuster fantasy or sci-fi movie had just arrived at the video store. So long as he got to pick the music, Paul graciously let Mae pick the movie. He heard her call back into the house, one of her legs sticking out of the door as she held onto the frame for balance. Paul saw David nod from a chair before Mae pushed herself out of the house and onto the porch. She skipped over to the blonde and threaded an arm through his, dragging him away from the railing. Paul managed to stub out his cigarette on the nearest ashtray before he could be pulled too far.

"Slow down, babe! The Blockbuster ain't going anywhere!" He laughed, letting his sister lead him to his bike. Mae had been in a rare good mood today, singing along to the radio as she got dressed to go into town. She'd taken the day off, so the boys had woken up to a freshly stocked fridge, a few new purchases from the thrift store, and a handheld radio sitting on the kitchen table. Paul had tried to swipe it, but Mae had grabbed it and stuffed it down her shirt, claiming that it was for her stall, not him. The blonde had just shrugged and made of show of 'trying' to get the radio from her bra, but she easily dodged his weak attempts, laughing all the while. The boys weren't sure why her day on the pier had perked her up; perhaps it was the fact that David and Mae seemed to have finally settled their differences that made her so cheerful. That rather large event had been two days ago, and peace had finally returned to their lives.

Now it was Thursday, which meant movie night in the Clayton household. Paul was always in attendance, but more often than not one or more of their brothers would show up halfway through the movie and stick around for the music portion of the evening. By the time the film was over, Mae was usually willing to relax the house rules enough that she'd let the boys either smoke or get high in the living room, so long as they kept the windows open and sat far away from her. While her asthma wasn't as bad as she made it out to be, the moment she started coughing, Dwayne had a way of swooping out of nowhere (if he wasn't hanging out with them, of course) and stomping out every cigarette within a half-mile radius. It was always hilarious to see David's shocked face after his lieutenant snatched his cig and tossed it outside. The death sticks always landed in an ashtray; Mae had started calling him Sandy Koufax in honor of how good her brother's aim was. Marko, of course, had taken the nickname and run with it, changing it to Sandra Dee and making innumerable references to "Grease" whenever Dwayne was around. It ruffled Dwayne's feathers enough that they always ended up in a wrestling match, the brunet and the blonde always managing to knock at least eight things over before Dwayne inevitably pinned Marko to the ground…or did something worse.

Paul giggled when he thought of the last time Marko had made the mistake of pissing Dwayne off. Mae eyed him up and down with a suspicious gaze. They were already seated on Paul's bike, engine revving, ready to take off into the night.

"Paul, are you high already? Cause if you are, I'm going back inside." Mae knew how crazy he could get with his driving when he had a few ounces of marijuana flowing through his system. She absolutely refused to be anywhere near Paul and his bike when he was stoned.

"Nah, sis. I'm just thinking about how funny Marko hanging from that tree was." He laughed again, but this time, Mae joined him. Despite Marko being her…boyfriend, probably, she was always willing to join Paul in mercilessly mocking him post-fight. Dwayne had been extra vindictive lately. The sight of Marko hanging by his belt from a half-dead tree was one for the record books.

"Ah, shit! That was hilarious. Did you see his face when David asked him what the hell he was doing?" She cackled, her voice carried away by the wind as Paul kicked the motorcycle into gear and tore down the dirt road, heading for town.

They spent the rest of the ride in companionable silence, save for a few screams from Mae (not that she'd admit to it) when Paul took a few turns too sharply for her liking. They were at the Blockbuster in record time, and Mae was not happy about it. Still, after a few gentle nudges from Paul, she was back to laughing with him as they wandered up and down the aisles, debating the merits of watching Star Wars again versus picking something at random. They took so long picking something out that Paul suddenly got the urge to light up, so he went outside to smoke a cigarette while Mae figured out what she was getting. He'd been on the opposite end of the aisle, so it took Mae a few seconds to realize that he was gone. She was about to call out for him when she felt a pair of eyes watching her. Mae stood stock still for a moment before acting natural, setting the copy of "The Golden Voyage of Sinbad" back in its place. The motion allowed her the cover she needed to glance to her right.

A little further down the aisle stood a woman idly reading the summary on the back of some cheesy romantic comedy. She looked to be in her early 50's, her skin pristine despite her age. Her hair was a beautiful shade of silver, drawn back into a fashionable updo that perfectly complemented her Wall Street-worthy pantsuit. She gave off an air of wealth and taste; she looked completely out of place in such a plebeian establishment. As soon as Mae looked at her, the woman set the videotape down and turned her body towards the younger woman. Her eyes were an alarming shade of blue, her gaze holding both endless malice and the gentle compassion of a mother. She reminded Mae of the woman who played Morgana in "Excalibur," some actress named Helen Mirren. They'd watched it last week, and Paul had been so high that he'd slept through most of the movie. Mae was broken from her reverie when the woman moved closer, appearing to merely peruse the selection of horror movies next to the brunette. The woman smelled of old libraries and decay. Mae shivered.

"Hello there." The woman's voice was soft like velvet, as warm and deep as finely aged bourbon. "You must be Maeve." The girl in question scowled.

"It's Mae. I prefer not to use my birth name." She huffed, selecting a movie at random to look at. Her grip on the battered tape was hard as she tried to calm her nerves. It was like being cornered by a hungry lion. Where the hell was Paul?

"Ah. Mae, then. My name is Mrs. Johnson. I prefer not to use my first name at all." Mrs. Johnson's smile set off alarm bells in Mae's mind. Despite her best efforts, she remained rooted to the spot, unable to run away. Her head felt fuzzy, and the tape dropped to the floor. Shit! She was a vampire, a powerful one at that. Her hypnotic abilities were strong, almost as strong as Túlio's, and he was nearly 500 years old!

"A pleasure, I'm sure. Now, why don't you let me go and we'll pretend like this never happened." Mae growled, shifting her feet as much as she could. The mesmer never wavered. Mrs. Johnson must be very powerful indeed. "Hey, wait…you're the lady that keeps watching me on the pier, aren't you?" Her brows knitted as she recalled all the times she'd seen this woman hanging around her stall this past month.

"Clever girl. It didn't take you quite as long as I expected." Mrs. Johnson turned to Mae a little more, her painted lips stretching wide in a ghastly smile. "I just wanted to meet the girl who has captivated the Lost Boys so much. Things have been exceedingly quiet around here since you arrived. I was beginning to think they'd all been tamed. Perhaps they have."

"What do you want?" Mae sneered, wanting nothing more than to punch Mrs. Johnson square in the jaw. Where the fuck was Paul? Had she done something to him? As if sensing her thoughts, Mrs. Johnson chuckled and smiled serenely down at Mae.

"Your brother is quite preoccupied at the moment, my dear. I made sure of it." She tilted Mae's head with a perfectly manicured fingernail, the edge digging painfully into the brunette's skin. Mae could just see Paul talking to some chick with a goofy smile on his face. Fuck. She must have hit both of them with a whammy. There's no way Paul would have left her on her own if he was in his right mind.

"What do you want, lady?" Mae repeated, turning back to Mrs. Johnson, hoping the "Dynasty" reject would finally get to the point.

"Nothing yet. I just wanted to get a good look at you uninterrupted. I'm amazed that your brothers haven't seen me yet. I've been quite obvious. It's too bad your dear David never comes with you; he would have spotted me in an instant." Mrs. Johnson tittered, and Mae felt the vampire's hold on her loosen. She stepped back from the vampire, keeping an eye on her as she edged towards the door. "I'll see you again soon, my dear. Until then, I'm sure your brother eagerly awaits your return." In a flash, Mrs. Johnson was gone.

Mae waited a second to make sure it wasn't trap, her fingernails digging into her palms. When the coast appeared to be clear, she ran for it, bursting out of the doors onto the crowded streets of Santa Carla. Paul was still talking to the girl. Mae marched right up to him, grabbed his arm, and started dragging him away. Paul's protests died down when he saw how ashen Mae was. He was so confused; how the hell did he end up outside? He freed his arm only to wrap it around her shoulders protectively.

They ducked into the nearest convenience store, heading towards the alcohol section in the back. The lights were glaringly bright, and there was only one entrance. It was about as safe as they could be at the moment. When Paul was sure that no one had followed them, he pulled Mae into his arms and held her close, letting her calm down. Actually, he wasn't doing so hot himself, so maybe the hug wasn't just for her. Even though they had pretty much burst into the store, the clerk hadn't even looked up from her magazine, and the only other people inside were a few frat boys hovering around the porno mags. Good. They had a few moments to themselves.

"What's the hell was that, babe?" He asked quietly, stroking her hair.

"Old Widow Johnson cornered me in the Blockbuster. She put a mesmer on you and that girl. I don't know what she made you think, but she wanted me alone. Next thing I knew, you were outside and I was stuck in place. I don't get it. She didn't do anything besides be vaguely disturbing." Mae blurted out, her voice getting faster as she tried to analyze what in the ever-loving fuck had just happened. "She's bad news, Paul. Something's up."

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't even feel it. I just knew that I had to go outside and light up, and then this girl was there…and I couldn't remember that you were there." Paul kissed the top of her hair, anxious to diffuse the situation. They needed to get home. David would know what to do. He always did. "What did she want?"

"To get a good look at me, apparently. That probably wasn't all, but fuck if I know what she was really after." Mae shivered, remembering the fingernail cutting into her skin. It hadn't bled, but there was probably an angry red mark on her chin. Dwayne would have an aneurysm.

"…I've never met her before. I think David and Dwayne have. I don't know about Marko. She usually keeps to herself. She lives on the opposite side of town as us. She used to have a coven, but I haven't heard about them in ages." Paul muttered, glaring at a frat boy who wandered too close. The kid backed off, turning back to his friends.

"She gives me the creeps." Mae sighed, leaning into Paul for a moment longer, before her lungs seized up in a cough. The smell of cigarette smoke was too strong thing close up.

"Sorry, kid. Come on. Let's go home." Paul slung his arm around her shoulder again, ruffling her hair affectionately, hoping to coax a smile out of her. They were both trembling, and he wanted nothing more than to forget that this night had ever happened. A breathy laugh forced its way out of her mouth, but the smile never came. She clung to her brother, her best friend, the entire way back to his motorcycle.

The ride home was quiet, even when Paul pushed the bike as fast as it could go. Mae just held onto him with an iron grip, never saying a word.

* * *

Dwayne had been sitting on the porch when Paul roared up, Mae's face buried in the back of his jacket. The brunet was on his feet in an instant, calling into the house for Marko and David to come down immediately. The look on his brother and sister's faces when they finally got off the motorcycle had him rushing across the grass to check them both for injuries. His youngest brother brushed him off, and Mae's mouth remained in a tight line. When Dwayne tried to ask what was wrong, Paul just shushed him and guided them into the house. This did nothing to calm Dwayne's worries.

David and Marko were perched on the chairs closest to the door, looking pensive and confused, respectively. Marko leapt up when they came in, fearing the worst when he saw none of the usual cheerfulness that accompanied them after a movie run. Mae had grown furious on the drive over, her face set in a scowl. Paul had a troubled look in his eyes, his hands twitching like he was coming down from a bad trip. Marko snarled when he saw the cut on her chin, his eyes going yellow in an instant. Mae sighed and swatted at him, making him back up so she could sit down on the couch. She tugged Paul down with her, the two leaning on each other for support, literally. Dwayne sat down next to Paul, wrapping an arm around the blonde's waist, while Marko did the same to Mae. David sat down on the coffee table, facing his brother and sister with a concerned look on his face. Mae took a deep breath, shaking off the uneasiness that had been dogging her the whole ride home.

"Widow Johnson cornered me at the Blockbuster. She hypnotized Paul and sent him outside. I didn't see it happening, but there's nothing I could have done anyway. She made Paul go out and light up, keeping him talking to some girl she'd hypnotized too. When I realized that Paul was gone, she hit me with a mesmer and kept me from moving." She shivered. Mesmers were never a pleasant thing to begin with, but having one done to you that kept you aware of what was going on was the worst sort of torture.

"What did she want with you?" David asked, scratching his chin. Dwayne could see the anger in his eyes. The widow leaving her web was never a good thing.

"Nothing, technically. She said she wanted to get a look at the girl who tamed the Lost Boys." Mae huffed, rolling her eyes. If only. She'd have more peace if they were tame. "Then she said she'd see me again soon before vanishing. I ran outside and grabbed Paul, which broke the spell on him. We waited a little while in the liquor store before heading home. Nobody followed us."

"The last thing I remember was being in the video store and feeling like I really needed a smoke. After that, it's all hazy until Mae snapped me out of it." Paul ran his fingers through his hair. His uneasiness put everyone else on edge; Paul was never this tense. "I've been high more times than I can count, but this…this was worse than any trip I've ever been on. I lost time, man. I don't even remember the girl, to be honest." Dwayne tugged Paul closer, comforting the blonde as best as he could. He was sure that the younger man wanted a blunt or a shot of whiskey to soothe his nerves, but they needed him sober for a little while longer.

"The Widow hasn't bothered us since way before Max died." Marko thought out loud, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought she'd left, actually. Moved on."

"I wasn't sure either way, but I was hoping she'd gone." David agreed. "The fact that she can enthrall people means she's older than Max gave her credit for, and stronger. We only encountered her a few times; Max always took care of her." David cursed himself for not studying her more closely, but he had been young and foolish back then. Those early days of conquest had been bloody and full of fiendish delights. What did he care for the woman whose throne they'd usurped?

"I don't get it, though. I thought we could only mesmerize humans?" Paul scratched at his arms, still shaken up. Mae had turned her fear to anger, and she wanted nothing more than to destroy something. Paul was her best friend. He should always be smiling, not desperately trying to calm his anxiety.

"You've only been a vampire for twenty years, Paul. You're still close enough to human that she can take you down." Mae explained, grabbing Paul's hand, halting his nervous tic. "With power like hers, I doubt even Dwayne and David could withstand her for long. They could probably hold their ground if they fought hard enough, but it would cost them dearly. She's stronger than most vampires I've met; she could give Túlio a run for his money, and he's got half a millennia under his belt. You and Marko, you're young enough that even Dwayne could pull you down. No offense, man."

"None taken. You're right, though. We always knew she was strong, but we never thought she'd be a threat. If what Mae says is true, she could take you guys down in an instant. You couldn't have stopped it, Paul. It's not your fault." Dwayne murmured.

Paul sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. They all gave him a moment to work through things. Even though Mae was technically the youngest of them all, every one of them saw Paul as the baby of the group. Sure, he could more than take care of himself, but his carefree attitude and natural effervescence often made them forget that beneath it all was an incredibly intelligent and dangerous man. Just as Mae was about to say something else to comfort the blonde, Paul laughed, raising his head again to smile at David with a fiendish grin.

"Can we kill her?" His eyes flashed yellow as he licked his lips, already tasting the Widow's blood on his tongue. Mae just rolled her eyes and grinned; of course she didn't need to worry about him. He was a ticking time bomb, and maybe that was her favorite thing about him. He was so volatile, but luckily, she had staked a place on his good side. She wouldn't mind it at all if he tore Widow Johnson to shreds. Hell, she'd help him burn the body.

"Not yet." David shook his head, rubbing his chin as he thought. "Knowing her, she has something planned, and it won't be pretty. If we attack without knowing what the hell she's doing, we could end up dead. This whole encounter might have just been a ruse to get us to follow her back to her lair. No. We need to think this one out. If it's just her, we can kill her easily enough, but I doubt she's alone. Even if she is, she'll have made a few cronies by the time the sun rises out of whatever prostitutes or runaways she can find on the pier tonight."

"That's dangerous, making so many children in one fell swoop. It could bring the council down on her." Mae frowned. "Would she be that stupid?"

"Probably not, although it would be helpful if the fucking councils actually did something for once." David grumbled. "Mae, call your friends down in L.A. See what they can dig up on her. It's about time they did something useful. Dwayne, you stick by Mae's side whenever she goes out. I don't care if you guys are just going out to the shed; you're with her at all times. Understand?"

"Perfectly." The brunet nodded. They were usually together anyway whenever Dwayne was awake, so this wouldn't be all that difficult an order to follow.

"Good. Mae, take at least two of us when you're out. Something's up, and I don't like it." The eldest waited until his sister had nodded. "All right. If the Widow is this bold, I'm sure she'll try something on one of us soon. Keep an eye out. Don't do anything stupid. I don't like it, but at this point, she's gonna have to make the first move. I haven't been by her hideout in years. If she makes any more trouble, we'll scout it together. Otherwise, just try to act normal."

The others agreed with various noises of assent. Paul looked put out, but he quickly got over it, tugging Dwayne off the couch to raid the kitchen for a drink. David went into the library, sitting down in a plush, if eye-wateringly ugly, chair that he'd pretty much claimed for his own. Knowing him, he'd be there all night, brooding. Mae headed up to her room to give Túlio a call. She mumbled something about wanting to take a shower and literally wash the day away, so she'd be up there for a while. Marko said nothing as she left, his mind still turning over the events of the evening. Not long after the sound of rushing water started upstairs, he stood up and followed David into the library, leaning against the wall opposite his brother. They existed in familiar silence for several minutes before David finally looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow at the other blonde.

"Yes, Marko?" His voice was soft, the sound frayed at the edges from inhaling too many cigarettes before he was turned.

"The widow. I think she's planning to finally get rid of the competition. The only thing I don't get is why she waited this long. She had the perfect opportunity after Max died. She's been quiet for over a year. There has to be more to it, but I can't put a finger on it." Marko was trying to tear her apart in his mind, to figure out her motives, but he'd never laid eyes on her before. He couldn't read her tells or parse out her history without seeing her. It frustrated him to no end.

"Maybe she thought we were dead too. No, I get it." David raised a placating hand when Marko huffed and rolled his eyes. "It's a dumb thing to assume, but it's all I've got right now. I don't like this either. She's older than Max ever was. If she could get Mae, Paul, and some chick all at once, she's either really strong or someone's helping her. Given that I haven't even seen any vampires passing through since before we joined up with Mae, I think it's more likely that she's just that powerful. We can take her, but you and Paul are liabilities. You're too young. Dwayne and I can resist enthrallment. You can't."

Marko growled in frustration, his teeth flashing as he snarled. He knew that David wasn't calling him weak, but the feeling was still there. David had over half a century on him. "Fuckin' shit. Then what do we do?"

"Like I said, nothing yet. She needs to make another move. Maybe Mae's friends in L.A. will pull through with something." David sighed, rubbing his forehead. "In the past, I would've been just like you. We would already be at her door, fangs out and ready to kill, but we're not dealing with some idiot teenagers and an old man. We can't rush in. I won't lose you guys again."

A year ago, if someone had told Marko that his eldest brother would be so ready to admit his fears to anyone at all, even his family, Marko would have laughed before ripping their head off. David didn't do fear…at least, that was what they all used to think. Death had a way of making you honest, and David hadn't even died. They all had their scars, and their wounds made them cautious. Marko was sure that psychologists would have a field day with all of them. As it was, Marko knew enough about the way the mind worked to know that they were all kinds of fucked up still. It wasn't weakness to want to keep your family safe. Pride had been their downfall, and David was pushing his ego aside in order to keep his family safe. Underneath his anger, Marko was actually kind of proud of David. He'd grown up. Of course, that didn't do a thing to make Marko feel better in the moment.

"We can't just wait this one out! It's more than just us now." He blurted out, his tongue moving faster than his mind. Shit. Marko barely held back a groan when David's lips split in a wide, mocking grin.

"Oh? Why, Marko…you're blushing." That was a fucking lie, but David delighted in watching his brother squirm.

"Fuck off!" Marko bit out, itching to throw something at David. He didn't, obviously; he liked being alive.

"Oh, Marko, Marko, Marko…" David leaned back in his chair, setting his book aside to study the other man. "You're in love.

For a moment, it looked like Marko was going to throw the entire bookcase at David, consequences be damned. The moment passed, however, and the blonde groaned, closing his eyes and sinking to the floor. Fuck. David was right. All this time, he'd been playing his usual game, only to fall into the one trap he'd spent his entire afterlife trying to avoid. He ran his hand through his hair, glaring up at David. The eldest only laughed, taking his brother's silence for the admission that it was.

"I was wondering when you'd finally get it. The tension's been killing me. It's like watching one of those shitty movies Star kept dragging us to." The elder chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees, watching Marko's reactions with glee. "You always lose interest by now, especially if they aren't putting out, and yet the minute you think she's hurt, you swoop in like a dime novel hero to make sure she's all right. Don't think I didn't see that, Marko. So adorable."

Marko growled at him, but he said nothing to deny it. Good. David wanted it all to sink in. Sure, he enjoyed tormenting his brother like this, teasing him within an inch of his life, but this was important. He might act like an asshole (and to be fair, he was one), but he really did love his brothers. He wanted them to be happy, and if it meant enduring a talk about romance and feelings, then so be it. What could he say? He was a great guy like that.

"She's got you cornered, Marko. You think you're in charge, but she's got you leashed so tight I'm surprised you aren't choking on it. I can see why you like her, though. She's smart, good-looking…and damn, can she kiss."

David saw the moment his words registered in Marko's mind. It was a delight to watch his brother rise to the bait, and Marko didn't disappoint. The younger blonde was across the room in the blink of an eye, his hands gripping the arms of David's chair so tight that the fabric was tearing beneath his talons. David only laughed, not the least bit scared by his brother's outburst.

"Calm down, Marko. It was only once, after our little argument. Don't blame me. She started it. Can't say I didn't want to stop her, though." David pushed Marko across the room with ease, barely even exerting himself. The other man hit the wall, the impact pulling him out his furious haze, only for him to realize that he'd just stepped way out of line. For a moment, the sharp scent of fear permeated the air as Marko waited for David to tear him a new one. To his utter surprise, David only shrugged, waving a hand in dismissal.

"I'll let it slide. I'm feeling generous tonight." His smile stayed in place, but his eyes were menacing. Marko gulped. "Don't ever do it again."

"Y-Yeah…got it…"

"Good. Now leave me alone. This book is finally getting interesting." David picked up the paperback and went back to reading. Marko, knowing that he was dismissed, turned to leave. A throat being cleared halted his steps.

"Oh, and Marko? She's obviously gone on you. Fucking do something about it already, will you? If you don't make a move in tonight, Paul wins the betting pool, and I refuse to be on the hook for the kind of drugs he wants."


	9. Temptation Heat

((Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long. I usually specialize in gay romances, so I'm not used to writing straight sex. Please let me know what you think! My editing might be a little sloppy, so please feel free to point out any inconsistencies you might see! The plot will continue in the next chapter, but for now, please enjoy some good old smut! As always, thank you for reading and commenting! Your comments and support make this all worth it!))

Three used makeup wipes, a shower, and a thorough brushing of her hair later, Mae felt just a little bit less like a zombie than she had an hour ago. She'd just finished with the hairdryer when she heard a knock on her door. Hm. Unusual. She could've sworn the boys would be busy for a while, so she hadn't bothered getting dressed beyond slinging a towel around her torso, the ratty old thing barely covering her breasts and her hips. With a sigh, she set her brush down and called for whoever it was to come in. She spent another moment running her fingers through her hair before stepping out into her bedroom. The trippy sounds of David Essex tapered off into nothing as the mixtape finished, an unseen hand turning the machine off. Mae flicked on the nearest lamp, the pale light doing little to chase away the shadows. Leaning against her door was Marko, his usual gloves and jacket missing. He looked smaller without the bulky items, more vulnerable. It was a rare sight indeed. Mae leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, crossing her arms as she studied him.

"Túlio wasn't there. I left a message. Hopefully he gets back to me by tomorrow. If he's out this early, he isn't coming back until sunrise." She sighed, running her hand through her bangs. "What d'you want?"

Marko remained silent, his eyes boring into hers despite the dim lighting. When he said nothing, Mae just shrugged and went about her business, grabbing some pajamas and tossing them over a chair. When her back was turned to him, Marko pushed off the door and moved silently behind her, his lips twitching into a cheeky grin when she froze right before he reached her. She was getting better at knowing where he was. Good. His hand slid down her shoulder to her elbow, her skin rising into goosebumps despite the steam-warmed air. He pressed his body against hers, his arms wrapping around her waist. He delighted in her broken gasp, his nose pressing into her neck. Her heartbeat was still too slow for his liking; he wanted to rile her up. Before he could tease her any further, Mae huffed out a sigh and leaned into him.

"What do you want, Marko?" The question was loaded, and the weight of it put a halt to Marko's mischief.

"Isn't that obvious?" He murmured, licking a trail up from her neck to her earlobe, teasing the soft flesh with his teeth.

"You know what I mean, Marko." Mae grumbled, pushing him away. She was now incredibly aware of her state of undress; even though nudity wasn't exactly high on her list of things to be worried about, it made her feel defenseless right when she needed to be strong.

"All right, then…" Marko purred, slinking over to the chair. He tossed Mae's pajamas onto the floor, much to her frustration, before sitting down like a king on his throne. "Talk to me. What has you so shook up?"

"Besides the fact that I've got psycho vampire assholes on my trail? Oh, nothing at all!" Mae groaned, leaning against the wall. She was in no mood for games. "Cut the crap, Marko. I think it's time we actually talk about…this." She waved her hand back and forth between them. Marko just raised an eyebrow.

"This? What's wrong with this?" He rested his head on his hand, his legs crossing in front of him. "Seems good to me, although I'd like it if we actually moved on to something a little more…full-frontal…" Marko grinned, licking his lips. Mae was sorely tempted to throw something at him. It was becoming a habit.

"And is that all you want, Marko? A fuck?" Mae growled, crossing her arms defensively. "You can get that anywhere. Why me? I've talked to Paul. Hell, I've talked to Dwayne about it. You never stick around this long, so what is it? Am I just a game, Marko? What, you sticking around cause I haven't put out yet, and once you get it, bam, you're gone?"

"Is that what you think of me, baby?" Marko slowly began to grin, his eyes cold as steel.

"I don't know what to think! We never talk about this! We get hot and heavy and that's it. I'm done being played with, Marko!" Mae's voice grew louder as his stayed quiet.

"Is this even about me, Mae? Or is this about your ex-girlfriend?" Marko's grin widened as Mae grew bright red.

"Fuck you! This isn't about her!"

"Yes, it is, just a little bit. Did she leave you behind, Mae? Treat you bad? Just use you as her little plaything? Just like everyone else?" Marko laughed softly. "And now you wanna know if I'm the same as that coked-up bitch, don't you? You wanna talk? All right, lets talk. You and your goddamn talking." He stood up, stalking over to Mae and caging her against the wall.

"Yes, Mae. I want you. I want to be inside you, on you, with you, in every way you'll let me. I want to fuck you. I want to see what you look like when you scream my name. I want to grab you whenever I want and push you against the wall just like this, except there won't be any fucking talking when I do it. And yes, Mae, I want more than that. I want to protect you. I want to play tricks on you when you're not looking. I want to know what you're thinking. I want to you to ride on my bike with me when I go out hunting. I want so much from you, Mae." He leaned in, brushing their noses together, he breath warm against his skin. "But most of all, Mae…I want my freedom."

Mae leaned back as much as she could, her expression confused. Marko chuckled, always pleased to have the upper hand in any situation, but this time it was a little bittersweet.

"My mother wanted perfection. She wanted a perfect little husband in a perfect little house with a perfect little family. She wanted everything her way, or not at all. I can't stand that. Tradition never sat well with me, babe. I want to come and go as I please. I won't be home every night right on time and ready for dinner. I won't coddle you. I won't be shown off to everyone like some prize horse. I won't be tied down, Mae. I wouldn't cheat on you. I'd never do that. But if you want some picture-perfect romance, you're looking in the wrong place." He pulled away, bending over to pick up her clothes and put them back on the chair. The room was silent again for a few moments.

"…I didn't exactly grow up with any idea of what a healthy relationship looked like either, Marko. My foster families were either single parents who needed government money or people who had way too many kids to handle to even think of taking care of themselves. My mom fucked off and I don't have any idea who my dad is. I've spent years wanting something good. I thought…I thought I had it with Veronica. It's not safe, running in the circles we do, but she felt safe. When she dumped me, she told me that what we had was just convenient for her, that I was easy to have around. I felt so used, so disgusting. Yeah, it fucked me up, but who isn't fucked up?" Mae grabbed Marko's arm and turned him around, staring him dead in the eye.

"I don't want chains, Marko. I just need a goddamn promise. I just need to know that you're coming home at all. I don't need to know your fucking itinerary. I need to know that it's me you're with, not someone else. I need commitment. I need to know whether this is a game or not. You've made it awfully clear that you don't mind the idea of something more, so let me make myself perfectly understood, Marko: I don't want to change you. I don't need you constantly by my side. Honestly, you'd drive me fucking insane if I was always with you." That drew a genuine laugh out of the blonde.

"You have your freedom, Marko. It's not mine to give or take away, but I refuse to go any further without some kind of understanding. Are we together, or not? If we are, then we talk, however much you hate it. You wanna take someone else to bed? Fucking tell me first, all right? Honestly, I'm not gonna say no, although I sure as hell might want in. You wanna fuck off all night without telling me where you're going? Fine, just be sure to say goodbye on your way out. You wanna be all fucking mysterious like David and not tell me anything? All right, go ahead, but I'm gonna fucking bother you until you either tell me what it is or you tell me to fuck off. That doesn't change. I'd do it whether we were together or not. We don't have to put this in a neat little box. We can figure it out as we go. I just need you to tell me one thing: is there an us, or not?"

Marko did her the honor of taking a moment to consider her words instead of just blurting out the first clever remark that came to his mind. She was telling the truth, like always: she wanted him, however he came, and she would let him do as he pleased. The only catch was communicating, and honestly, that wasn't the worst thing in the world. It'd be a pain in the ass, but she just wanted to talk if they needed to, not keep in constant contact like a pair of love-struck high school kids. She'd been burned before. He understood that. Was this too much to ask? No, not really. Loathe as he was to admit it, he probably would have given her more if she'd asked for it, but anything more than just a promise of fidelity would have eventually chafed at him too much, and this whole thing would collapse. They'd make it up as they went. Yeah. Yeah, that was fine. He wanted her. She wanted him. They could meet in the middle.

"There is an us, Mae Clayton. For as long as we want it." His voice was solemn and gentle, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

"For as long as we want it." Mae murmured, echoing his promise. "Don't think this means you can bother me at work…" She whispered, her words reedy and thin with anticipation.

"Like you could fucking stop me…" He grinned, leaning in closer.

"Don't try me, Marko…" She laughed breathily.

"I think I will, babe…I think I will."

* * *

David snapped his book shut with a groan. He raised his eyes to the ceiling with a glare that could set things on fire. As it was, the wood remained distressingly cold. He tossed the book aside and stood up, storming into the kitchen, where he grabbed a drunken Paul and confused Dwayne by the arms, dragging them outside. Paul was babbling about how uncool the whole situation was, but with one withering glance, he shut up. By the time they were outside, Dwayne had half an idea of what was going on, but he said nothing. It was probably for the best.

They spent the rest of the night getting blessedly wasted. David needed it after hearing what he did. Marko fucking owed him.

* * *

"…So let me get this straight…" Marko chuckled, laughing at his own joke while his teeth nipped at Mae's earlobe. "…You've never had sex with a guy before? So you're, what, a virgin?"

"No, I'm not. I just haven't had a dick in me. Will you get on with it already?" Mae shoved at him, amazed at how much she was laughing when she thought that sex was supposed to be a solemn affair. Maybe she'd been doing it wrong this whole time.

"Yeah, you were."

"Stop reading my fucking mind!"

"Stop thinking so loud, then." Marko purred, sucking a bruise into Mae's neck.

They were still pressed against the wall, what little momentum they had built up after their promises were made had been halted by the revelation that Mae had never had straight sex before. Marko had a million questions to ask (lesbian porn had never been his thing, so he wasn't too sure how it all worked), but he supposed that he could save them for later. Right now, he wanted things to get horizontal as fast as possible. With another delighted grin, he tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He slid his belt off and shucked off his jeans, leaving him naked as the day he was born. Marko wasn't shy at all, reveling in the hungry stare Mae was giving him. He stepped backwards, sitting on the edge of the bed, beckoning his girlfriend closer with an almost elegant wave of his hand.

Mae had seen him naked before, but now she was finally allowed to take her time and really look. His skin was smooth, save for his hands, which still held the scars he'd gained as a mechanic before he was turned into a creature of the night. His face was lit from the side by the moonlight filtering in through her window, the lamplight too weak to reach across the room. He looked ethereal, unnaturally beautiful, like something carved from stone by an ancient artist long since dead. His eyes gleamed from the shadows, strangely bright despite the gloom. She did her best to shield her thoughts from him, but the cheeky grin on his face told her that she was failing miserably. Damnit. She'd have to work on that.

"Come closer, love…" He murmured, his voice soft and velvety.

She bit her lip, her hand reaching up to undo her towel. As she slowly crossed the short distance between them, the fabric fell to the ground, letting him see her bare body for the first time. She was soft in the places he was hard: her breasts were ample, her stomach smooth but lacking the strong muscles Marko proudly displayed, and her hips gave her a gentle hourglass shape. She had a few scars littering her skin, little accidents that made up the life of every child who wasn't watched twenty-four hours a day. A small smattering of freckles trailed from her shoulders to her forearms, matching the ones on her face, noticeable only when in close proximity. She was quite pale, having always favored the shade over the sun. Mark slid his hand up her chest, skimming around her breast to rest his hand on her cheek.

"Hello there…" Marko's smile was gentle this time, a far cry from his usual teasing grin. Despite his reputation, he took things like this very seriously. First times should be special. There would be time for other dark delights later.

Marko slid back further onto the bed, guiding Mae down with him, rolling them over so he was on top. Distantly, he heard the front door close, too quietly for Mae to hear. Good. They could make as much noise as they wanted now. Mae's hand slid into his hair, tugging him down for a hesitant kiss. Now, this wouldn't do. He wasn't a nice man by any means, but Mae should know by now that she had nothing to fear from him. His teeth worried at her lower lip until she opened up for him, a soft moan escaping from her mouth as his tongue dived in. Marko explored the familiar territory, groaning when she accidentally tugged his curls. A pleased smile graced his lips as he felt her do it again, this time with a little more force. Perfect. His hips slid against hers, dragging a shiver from the woman beneath him.

"Fuuuuck…" Mae gasped, the feeling of his cock against her skin a strange, but not unwelcome sensation. Not that she'd done a hell of a lot of looking before this, but she'd bet a few dollars that Marko was just a little bit thicker than average, his dick well-proportioned for his height. She'd once heard Dollar Fifty brag about having seen a guy hung like a horse, but she highly doubted it. Dollar Fifty was a size queen.

"If you're thinking about other men, baby, I'm doing something wrong." Marko growled, his nails digging into her hips as he thrust against her again. A possessive heat flooded his mind, the need to claim and mark growing inside of him. He'd never felt like this before, but then again, he'd never fallen in love, either. Not that he would admit either of those things. Not yet, anyway.

"Don't we need a condom or something?" Mae bit her lip, wondering if she had any stashed in her drawer. No, she didn't. She'd never had to think this far ahead before.

"Babe, if I could get people pregnant, I'd have, like, seventy kids by now. Trust me, we don't need one…" He paused. "…Unless you want one. I'm clean, promise. We don't get diseases or whatever." Yeah. Definitely weird being this considerate, but the blush on her face and her affectionate smile more than made up for the awkwardness.

"Nah. I trust you." She laughed when he surged down for a fierce kiss, his hands spreading her legs as he settled between them. His tongue danced away from hers every time she tried to meet him in the middle. Figures. Her hands slid down his back, tracing the bumps of his spine before resting on his hips.

Marko's mouth parted from hers to trail little kisses down her jaw to her neck. She'd have purple bite marks littering her skin tomorrow morning. A quiet, greedy growl escaped him; the thought of her bearing his mark for all to see was thrilling. He made sure to place quite a few above even the highest of necklines, making it impossible for her to hide them. Perfect. He slithered down her body, tasting her, leaving his claim wherever he felt like it. When he reached her breasts, his eyes looked up to meet hers right as he sucked a bruise into her left breast. Her gasp of pain was delicious, even though it was at the cost of a smack to the head. Ignoring her admonition, he continued to lave attention on the spot before moving onto her nipple. His nimble tongue teased it into a peak, his hot breath hardening it further. Her hands tugged at his hair as she cried out in pleasure. Marko moved onto her other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

Her boyfriend had a talented tongue. After figuring out that he liked having his hair pulled, Mae began using that to show him that she liked something, only stopping when he bit too hard or tried something she didn't care for. Despite the cold night, she had never felt this warm; even the cruelest of summers had never been this blistering. Her body grew slick with sweat, shimmering in the moonlight as Marko remained unaffected. His lips fluttered across her stomach until he was lying on his stomach, his head between her hips. Her sex was already wet, his teasing having done a marvelous job of putting her on edge. Marko licked his lips, groaning in satisfaction as he tasted her, his tongue darting out to circle her clit.

"Aaaaah!" Mae's cry was so loud that it filled the whole house. Fucking hell, he was good! This was something she was very familiar with; Veronica had been very into oral, as Mae recalled. According to Veronica, Mae was mediocre at best at giving, but the sounds she made while getting it more than made up for it. That should have been her first warning that her girlfriend was a bit of an asshole, but alas, she'd been naïve back then. Veronica treated giving it like a chore. Marko, though…he seemed to enjoy doing this. His eyes were blown wide with arousal, staring up at her, gauging her reactions to every little thing he did. Mae was already so close, only a little more…

"Fuck! You absolute ass!" She gasped as Marko pulled away, his chin shiny with her slick. His smile was evil to the core, and Mae wanted nothing more than to wipe it off. She tried to pull him down again, but he sat back on his heels, licking his lips.

"Not yet, baby. I haven't even started with you." Marko chuckled, his right hand sliding down her stomach to her sex, two fingers sliding inside her. Mae winced in pain; she wasn't used to having so much inside of her, especially after going a year without any kind of sex at all. Marko's thumb rubbed her clit, alleviating the sting just enough so that he could keep stretching her.

"That's it baby. Relax for me." He purred, watching her painful expression melt into something more sensual. A third finger slipped in, rubbing her walls, spreading her open. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her eyes shut against the growing pleasure.

Marko withdrew his fingers and spread her legs a little bit wider, his cock lining up with her entrance. He waited until she had opened her eyes, a question on her lips about his hesitance, before he suddenly thrust in. Mae cried out, her hands scrabbling at the sheets as she tried to relax again. Marko leaned down, one hand sliding under her head to draw her into a deep kiss. His hips rolled in a steady rhythm, not moving in and out so much as just getting her used to the feeling of being full. It took her a few moments, but she soon began following his movements, her hips twitching up into his.

"Good girl…" Marko pulled back enough to look her in the eye, his cock sliding out nearly all the way before he slid in again, starting a slow, easy pace. There was nothing fun in hurting your partner…unless they'd asked for it. He kept his thrusts gentle, waiting for a signal from her to go faster. Mae's hair was tangled beneath her head, damp from her exertions, clinging to his hand as he pressed another searching kiss to her lips. He was growing impatient; with any other girl, he would be taking what he wanted by now, but Mae was special. For her, and her alone, he'd wait.

"Marko…" Mae was lost in the sensations, feeling punch-drunk with pleasure. This was so different from anything she'd ever done before, but it felt good, so good. She could tell that Marko was barely holding back, and she loved him all the more for it. Maybe he wasn't a nice man, but he was good one…to her, at least. Forcing her eyes open, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his shoulders, biting her lower lip for a moment. "More, Marko…give me more…"

With a deep growl, Marko planted his hands on either side of her head, his hips snapping into hers, his cock thrusting deep inside. Mae mewled in pleasure, warmth pooling below her navel as he fucked her. It wasn't making love, not like in the books she used to read. Everything was a shade too rough, just a bit too fast. There were no whispered declarations, no promises, no praise, nothing. Still, it was theirs, and theirs alone. Nothing needed to be said out loud; silence could communicate just as much as the spoken word. The marks littering her skin were written confessions signed in purple ink, scratched out with teeth instead of lead. Deep red lines that were already fading on his back were her reply, fleeting in permanence but never forgotten. Kisses that ended in tongue, not teeth, were apologies for pushing too hard. Hands smoothing over sides were questions, checking that the other was okay. Soft noises were their praise, a moan serving as worship, a sigh signaling approval. Maybe he wasn't a lover made for the kind of movies middle-aged mothers cried over, but Marko had his own way of making her feel special.

There was something to be said for sex with someone you cared about, Marko thought as he felt his peak approaching. This wasn't the most creative sex he'd ever had, nor was it the best, if you could measure such things objectively. It was actually pretty damn vanilla, not that he was against such things. Normally, he was just chasing after his own high, not really caring if the girl (or boy) beneath him was right there with him. This time, though, he wanted her to cum first. Her cries gave him their own special kind of euphoria, telling him that her pleasure was his doing, only him. Only he could make her feel this way. She was his. He was hers. Maybe this was what made humans cling so desperately to each other in the dark, this feeling of power that giving another pleasure gave you. Oh, he knew how to make someone scream his name into the night, but it was always with the intention of taking it away, just to see them beg to have it back. Not with Mae, though. No such teasing, not this far into game. He reveled in her spiral into ecstasy.

Marko watched her lose control, her cries turning into screams, her walls tightening around his length, her nails trying their damnedest to tear into his skin. He captured her mouth in another kiss, swallowing her moans as she hurtled over the edge. Her muscles clamped down around his cock, pulsing in waves as she orgasmed. With a final thrust, Marko followed her down, ripples of bliss firing through his limbs. His hips ground against her, pushing them as far as they could go before the sensation grew painful. With a final groan, he pulled out and slumped down next to her, drawing his girlfriend into his arms. Mae went with a small gasp, still tender in too many places to count. All was silent for a few minutes, save for Mae's quiet panting and Marko's satisfied sighs.

"…Marko?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't it supposed to be a little more…er…messy than this?" Mae's voice was small and confused, her hand reaching between her thighs as if searching for something.

"Oh!" Marko laughed, tickling down her side. When her giggles died down, he tucked her head under his chin. "There's a reason why vampires don't get people pregnant, babe. Things don't work down there the same way they do in humans. We're not exactly a species that needs to create kids to keep from going extinct. We leave that to you guys."

"Oh…I see…" Mae frowned, falling silent once again as she thought it over.

The clock in the corner ticked away quietly, the heater kicking in just as Mae began shivering. Marko sat up for a moment to grab the duvets bunched up at the foot of the bed, covering them both before settling down again. The silence lasted long enough that he was sure that Mae had fallen asleep. He was hungry, but he could wait. This was surprisingly nice, and quite warm, too. Yeah, he could stay for a while. Mae's head was pillowed on his arm, his other hand resting on her waist. His girl was curled up with her back to him, having shifted around when he was fetching the blankets. He pressed himself against her back, breathing in her scent as he let her rest. They could clean up later. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, and in the distance, the ocean moved in her slow, inexorable rhythm. All was calm, and then…

"Wait, so your balls don't work?"

"Go the fuck to sleep, Mae."

"I'm just asking! How the hell do you cum, anyway? Isn't getting the cum out the whole point? I mean, how…"

The ensuing pillow fight would be one for the ages, but no one would ever know.

* * *

For the record, Marko won. But only just.


	10. Chasing Rabbits

((Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay. Things got real busy out in the real world. I hope you like this chapter! Lots of questions asked, very few answered. Don't worry, the wait will be worth it! If you like, you can also follow me on .com for extra stuff! As always, your comments and reviews feed my soul!))

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The sky became a violent sea of dark clouds, the wind blew hard and tore like a knife, and the rain fell in sheets so thick you could barely see your hand before your face. If the sun still burned bright out in the vastness of space, you would never know it standing on the streets of Santa Carla. Umbrellas did little to protect the humans huddled underneath them, often turning inside out as the winds tried to carry them away. It wasn't a day that any sane person would spend on the pier. The lights were off, save for a few streetlights dotted here and there. Tarps were hung over delicate machinery while the rest of the structures were left to fend for themselves. What little foot traffic there was in the city itself was mostly people running from storefront to storefront, trying to avoid the icy barrage until they reached their car or their destination. All the clocks read 10 am, but if you asked anyone hurrying by, they would probably say that it was much, much later. Most businesses remained closed, with only the most necessary of stores dragging their employees out to man the cash registers. While it most definitely wasn't a hurricane, the people of Santa Carla weren't taking any chances today. Those who could stayed home.

Mae really should have stayed home.

In retrospect, that urgent trip to the grocery store could have waited another day. The weatherman said this storm system would pass by noon tomorrow, having cleansed the land and skies with brutal efficiency in a little over 24 hours. Yesterday, he'd said that the rain would pass them by completely. Mae was learning not to trust the weatherman. She shouldered her grocery bag a little higher, the empty canvas half-soaked after a rather nasty encounter with a passing car and a large puddle. Even though it rained in Santa Carla more than other places in California, the residents still drove like they'd never seen so much as a sprinkle before. If Mae didn't end up ripped to shreds by psycho vampires, she'd probably get run over by a soccer mom. She was halfway to the grocery store, her raincoat and boots failing in their sole purpose of keeping her dry and warm. Next time, she'd just send one of the boys. Maybe Paul. Just seeing his hair all wet and bedraggled would be worth the epic amount of booze she'd owe him.

A small laugh escaped her as she crossed the street, passing through one of the many dilapidated parts of town. Rumor had it that the city council was planning on gentrifying the city a little bit, to make it compete with San Francisco. Good luck with that. People came here for the pier and the beach; they could care less what the suburbs looked like. The Blockbuster was shuttered, a sign haphazardly taped to the door with its ink running in pools of sickly red and blue, telling its customers that they would be open tomorrow if the weather improved. Mae groaned when a blast of wind blew a spray of water onto her face. She scrubbed at her eyes, grumbling about weathermen and fucking raincloud. At least it was just a few more blocks until the grocery store. Damn the bus for picking the worst places to stop. It was like someone had deliberately decided to make things difficult for anyone who didn't want to go directly to the goddamn pier and spend all their money on shitty rides and rigged games. Ugh.

Five days of agonized waiting had passed since Mae's encounter with Old Widow Johnson. Five days of looking over her shoulder whenever she was on the pier, eyes constantly searching for a shock of silver-white hair, any hint of an extravagant shoulder padded suit, or the scent of decay and gardenias. Nothing had happened so far, but Mae had a feeling that they weren't in the clear yet. Her psycho stalkers hadn't shown up either, but that was probably due to the presence of her brothers. Dwayne was practically glued to her side, never leaving her alone. If Mae needed the bathroom, she had a tall, dark escort to the nearest single-person room with a lock, helpfully located on the other side of the pier in a fucking burger joint. He'd stand guard outside, which was nice in some ways and weird in others. Oh, well. She'd rather not die, so she'd live with the embarrassment.

Paul had been there every night too, his usual cheer somewhat diminished in light of his hypnotic adventure. She'd been trying to set him up with the redhead at the t-shirt booth across the way, but he wasn't feeling it, so Mae was keeping her eye out for anyone who he could have a good night out with. Maybe it wasn't the best coping mechanism, but it was the best she could do. David was always nearby, in and out of the shadows with Marko always hot on his heels. They seemed to be watching the perimeters, looking for danger before it got too close. More than once, Mae had spotted the hem of a long black coat vanishing around a corner or a familiar head of curls disappearing out of the corner of her eye. They rarely stopped by the actual booth, although Marko always made sure to be there at closing time, taking over for Paul if the youngest wanted to go buy booze. Even if Paul stayed with them, Marko still came, his arm always slung around Mae's waist as they headed back to their bikes. Someone, usually Paul (but sometimes Dwayne) would make a snarky comment about Marko finally being tamed once they got home, which would always end in a fight. Mae and David were secretly betting on how long it would be before the jokes got old and they had a final showdown, which would inevitably end in a new set of bloodstains on the carpet. David was probably going to win, the smug asshole.

Even with those little moments of levity, things were tense, to say the least. Mae had trouble sleeping, barely getting any rest before the sun rose. She slept better when it was bright out, even though it was impossible for her enemies to get into the house no matter what time of day it was. Yesterday, she'd spent the day in the boys' room, curled up between Marko and Dwayne as everyone slept. For the first time in ages, she felt fully rested, so she'd decided to go out and finally do her errands while the sun was up. Granted, the clouds were covering the sky in a blanket so thick it made the morning seem like midnight, but David had assured her that a vampire would still go up in flames if he set foot outside. Feeling as safe as she could in a world where vampires weren't the only people to be afraid of, Mae had shouldered her bag and gone to market, feeling stupider and stupider the further she got from home. It was only sheer stubbornness that had stopped her from turning around…that, and the fact that Dwayne had finished off the last of her cereal.

As her foot touched down on the sidewalk outside the grocery store, she felt a sudden tingling down her spine. Eyes were on her, but where were they? Trying to act casual, Mae leaned against the stucco wall, pretending to shake the water off her boots. Just as she was about to turn around, a set of arms wrapped around her middle, a hand jamming itself over her mouth and nose. Her scream was lost to the rushing of the wind and the pounding of the rain. As she inhaled to scream again and try to fight her way out, her nose stung with the overpowering scent of chemicals. Shit. Chloroform. Her panic only made her breathe faster, drawing more and more of the chemical cocktail into her lungs. She had seconds before she passed out. Her eyes scanned the road for help, but there was no one out, and the store had no customers and no outside cameras. She was alone. With the last of her strength, she bit down hard, her teeth sinking through cloth and skin, or so she hoped. Mae felt her consciousness slip away, her umbrella clattering to the ground in series of muted echoes. Black crept into the edges of her vision as her body went limp.

The last thing she saw before she passed out was the cloudy sky, an anemic ray of sunlight peeking through, only to be swallowed up once more by the ominous storm.

* * *

It wasn't unusual these days for the house to be quiet when the boys woke up. Once, not so long ago, their rising would have been met with curse-laden complaints about the state of the laundry room or the pounding of an old stereo set to deafening levels. Now, their sister was much more subdued, her troubles dampening her spirit. Even though their family ties were strong, the boys had no idea how to deal with such a thing. Their afterlives were filled with nothing but joy and hedonism (at least, until the incident), and even after their second deaths, they preferred to scream and slash at whatever tried to tear them down. Holing up and hiding wasn't in their nature, not when the threat was so easily taken care of. Still, Mae was human, and humans reacted differently to such things. For her, they would be patient, focusing more on her protection than satisfying their need for a fight. David had finally had an idea last night, and he was going to call a family meeting to work things out. They would take care of the rogues, kill the Widow, and finally stake their claim on Santa Carla once and for all. No one fucked with their family. No one.

Of course, things never happened easily for any of them. Upon waking, they knew something was wrong. The silence of the house was always punctuated with two constant, almost comforting sounds: Mae's heartbeat, and the running of the washing machine. Neither could be heard, no matter how hard they strained to hear it. Mae was always home before sundown, not only for her safety, but also out of habit. Not once since they'd met had she been outside when they woke up. Never. Dwayne was the first out, the others still trying to pick up any sound they could. He charged through the house, exploring every nook and cranny. The others spread out, looking for any sign of their missing sister. The door was still locked and the windows were unbroken. No one had entered since Mae had gone to get the groceries, including Mae herself. A mortal hadn't stolen her from the house. That left only one conclusion: Mae had been taken somewhere beyond their safe haven, somewhere in town. They silently convened in the living room, the sky still tinted blue as the moon began to rise. David leaned against the wall, his shoulders tense. Paul was pacing, his hair even more ruffled than usual. Dwayne and Marko were practically vibrating out of their skin, wanting nothing more than to tear out of the house that instant. It was only out of respect for David that they stayed. Their leader wouldn't have them waiting without a reason to.

"…Marko. You found no trace of her?" His voice was calm, but they knew him well enough to read the unease in his posture.

"None. Her scent is several hours old. The house hasn't been opened since morning." Marko's hand twitched. "There's footprints in the mud outside leading away from the house, but none coming back. She never made it home."

"If she was kidnapped, a mortal had to have done it. She would've been home well before sunset otherwise. That means we can track them. Paul, your eyes are the best. You lead out. Dwayne, guard the rear. Move it!" He hadn't even finished his command before the others were tearing out of the house, running for their bikes. Flying would be faster, but if they were going to be searching for humans, it was best to blend in.

The rain was still pouring down, obscuring anything more than five feet ahead of them. Even with their enhanced sight, it was difficult to make anything out. Paul followed the footprints to the edge of the dirt road. There was only one set of tracks, so Mae hadn't been taken there. With a signal to his brothers behind him, he set off towards town, following a gut instinct. There was always the possibility that nothing evil had happened to their sister, and she was just laid up at the hospital with a broken ankle or something, but knowing their luck, their worst fears were correct. For the first time in his second life, Paul cursed the weaknesses being a vampire gave him. He'd give anything to be able to walk in the sun once more if it meant being able to protect his family at all times, not just when the sky was black. As the buildings began getting closer together, the boys went two by two, with David and Paul at the front. They took the same path the bus always did, looking and smelling for anything that could help them find their sister. Luckily for them, most of the mortal residents of Santa Carla were still huddled up inside, leaving the streets blessedly empty.

It was Dwayne who spotted the umbrella. David had been about to call a halt when Dwayne shouted at them all to stop, the brunet braking so fast that he nearly ran into a wall. He hopped off his bike and scanned the area, but there was no sign of human life to be found. The store's fluorescent sign gave off a static buzz over the pouring rain, blocking his hearing. All he could smell was wet asphalt, gas fumes from their bikes, and old garbage further down the alley. No trace of their sister remained. Paul picked up the umbrella, sniffing at it.

"Smells terrible. Something chemical-y. I can't place it, though." He handed the object off to David, who examined it carefully before holding it up to his nose.

"Chloroform. Enough to knock a human right out." David hissed. "Someone had this planned out. Marko, Paul, search the alleyway. Scent for this." He tossed the umbrella to Marko, who gagged at the odor.

"Gotcha." Marko and Paul took off, trying to pick up anything from the rain-washed concrete and stucco.

"Dwayne, check across the street. See if there's anything down the other alley. I'll-"

"David!" Paul shouted, drawing the two out of their conversation. Marko was as still as a statue besides Paul, his silence putting David on edge; he was only ever so quiet when he was about to commit the most brutal of murders.

In a split second, David and Dwayne were by their sides, Paul pointing to the source of Marko's fury: Mae's canvas bag, a message painted in faded black marker, the ink half-destroyed by the downpour. The second Dwayne saw what was crudely scrawled on the canvas, his eyes went yellow and his fangs went down. In a split second, Paul had Dwayne pinned to the wall, using all of his strength to keep him there. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his brother broke free; Dwayne was the strongest of them all, and when he was on a rampage, nothing could stop him. His protective instincts made him a fearsome opponent, but it also clouded his judgment. David bent down and picked the bag up, reading it over before handing it off to Marko, who looked like he was torn between viciously tearing it apart and desperately clinging to it.

"'Went shopping. Picked up dinner. Want the leftovers?'" David murmured, repeating the message. The taunt left him with precious little information, none of which he didn't already know. This was obviously the work of her vampiric stalkers, but how had they managed to get her during the daylight hours? A snarl from Dwayne distracted him. The brunet was fighting with Paul, resorting to cheap shots to try and break free from his brother's grip. David grabbed Dwayne's chin, forcing his brother to keep still. He forced Dwayne to look him in the eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was laden with the weight of a command.

"Dwayne, be still." He instantly went limp in Paul's arms, David's power forcing him to submit. When the anger had cleared from Dwayne's eyes, David spoke again. "Focus. We can't find her if you're thinking with your teeth and not your brain. The more time we waste trying to keep calm, the more time they have to kill her." He held Dwayne's gaze until his brother took a deep breath and nodded, the anger clearing from his face. Behind him, David heard the rustling of fabric on fabric.

"David?" Marko called, voice anxious.

"What?"

"There's blood on the bag! Right here, just below the last line." The other three bent over the bag, David snatching it back from Marko. There, dotting the bottom of the bag, were drips of blood. A few more could be seen dotting the surface of the bag, but most of them were covered by ink or diluted by the rain. David held it up to his nose, picking up the barest hint of a scent. He passed it over to Paul, who breathed as deeply as he could. In a flash, he'd thrown the bag back to David, taking off into the street, his eyes half-focused on where he was going. The others followed him, David stuffing the bag into his pocket in case they needed it. They ran faster than any human could ever dream to run, Paul in the lead as his brothers kept an eye out for danger. Even though the heavy rain covered the smell of blood, Paul could just faintly identify his target. If he'd only had the trail blood to go by, he would never have known where to go, since it had all washed away by now, but he knew who the blood came from. He knew the one who took his sister. They skidded to a halt outside a half-rotted old shack half a mile from the beach, hidden at the end of a street of vacant houses.

"This is Isaac's house. He's the meanest, ugliest bastard you ever saw, but he somehow always has coke and ecstasy on hand if you can pay for it. This is his hideout when he's in town." Paul explained, glaring at the door.

"Does he own it?" Marko asked, claws flexing as his face contorted into its monstrous form.

"Not at all." Paul grinned, shifting as well.

"Then let's get the bastard!" Dwayne growled.

"Hold it. Marko, see any traps?" David put a hand on Dwayne's arm, ready to hold him back if necessary.

"Not a thing. I can hear a heartbeat, but it's slow. Only one, though. Can't sense anyone else in there."

"…After you." David's smile was razor-sharp as he let Dwayne charge ahead, his lieutenant tearing down the door with one savage blow.

The brothers stormed in, ready for a fight. It was a sorry excuse for a building, looking more like someone's old tool shed than a house. A ratty pallet was set up in the far left corner, with a camping stove and a cheap flashlight next to it. The room was bare, with no sign of the source of the blood. It was pitch black inside, but the boys had no need for light. A few bags of drugs were strewn across the pallet, the scent of unwashed human invading their noses when Marko kicked the covers back. With a gagging noise, he turned back to the room. His brothers seemed to have caught onto something, so Marko bent down and grabbed the flashlight before joining the others.

They followed their noses to the far right corner, the wood creaking dangerously beneath their boots. Faintly, they could sense something beneath the floor, an irregularity in the sound the boards made when stepped on. Paul held up a hand, keeping the others back as he felt around for something on the floorboards. After a few seconds, there was the screech of rusty metal as Paul flipped a latch. Light flooded the hovel as Marko lit up the flashlight, pointing it at the ceiling so the light spread out across the room. Paul heaved the door open, ready to fight whatever was waiting for them down below.

They were met with more darkness. The overwhelming scent of blood assaulted their senses, making the hovel smell more like a slaughterhouse than a home. They looked down into the hidden basement, the thing barely more than a deep square carved into the dirt beneath the shack. Paul jumped inside, nearly slipping in the blood that slicked the floor. He froze, getting knocked aside by first Dwayne, then David as they both followed him down. It was only when Marko brought up the rear that he finally moved, leaning against the wall as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Dwayne cursed. David growled. Marko dropped the flashlight, the old plastic making no sound on the wet floor when it landed. Their eyes were fixated on what was on the far wall, the only sound the quiet buzz of the flashlight shorting out. It was a declaration of war, written in dried blood:

"Run and hide, little boys. Mother's home."

And sitting underneath the challenge, her arms and legs bound tightly to the chair, was Mae, unconscious but alive…

…with the mutilated corpse of Isaac lying at her feet.


	11. A Little Night Music

((Hey guys! Hope you enjoy a little breather before the plunge, or the calm after the storm...whichever way you want to see it, there's action ahead, and mystery behind. Thanks for always commenting and supporting me! Your support is what keeps me going! Also, just to let you know, Mae and the boys are open for questions over at .com, my tumblr dedicated to The Lost Boys and this fic! As always, comments feed my soul! I hope you like this chapter!))

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 _Los Angeles. 1987. Miguel's House. Sometime around midnight._

 _"You know I hate it when you smoke those things, Viejo."_

 _"Ah, fine. But only for you, Chiquita."_

 _"You say that every time, Túlio, and yet you still try to sneak one in whenever we're out here."_

 _"Sí, but if I didn't try, you wouldn't know it was me!"_

 _"True."_

 _Mae turned back to the open sky, watching a plane fly into LAX as she heard Túlio put away his cigarettes. The roof of Miguel's old house was her favorite place to hang out when she wanted to be alone. It was about as secluded as one could be in a house full of vampires, the air was relatively free of smoke and incense, and you could pretend that the airplanes overhead were shooting stars making their way across the sky. Of course, she was never up there alone for long, but those few precious minutes meant the world to her. She loved her friends, don't get her wrong, but they were a rambunctious bunch at the best of times. A girl needed her privacy once in a while._

 _A cold hand found hers, their fingers tangling as Túlio lay down beside her. He was growing out his hair, the strands straight and thick and as black as the night he loved so dearly. Out of all of her friends, he was the one she held closest to her heart. Túlio was just about the only one she could truly count on, or so she hoped. He hadn't let her down yet, but he was bound to Miguel's will, and if his sire decided that Mae was no longer welcome in his coven and his home, Túlio would have no choice but to kill her. It was the way of things here, and she did her best to accept it._

 _She lifted their hands up, studying his skin against hers. Where she was pale, he was as dark as the champurrado the abuelas at the markets made. Some days, she caught him staring sadly at one of the old women working at a fruit stand. Once, she'd asked him why he did that. After a few moments of silence, he had quietly said that she was meant to be family, but her love of God kept her from taking the final step, and now he was doomed to watch her die._

 _It was times like those that made her grateful that she had no one so dear to leave behind. Attachments were as terrible as they were beautiful._

 _"What are you thinking of, Chiquita?"_

 _"Dreadful things."_

 _"For one so young, you are so dour!" His laughter was like crushed velvet. "When you are my age, you can spend your days brooding, although I hope you choose not to."_

 _"I will do as I see fit, Túlio. Remember the last time you tried to tell me what to do?"_

 _"Ah, sí! You nearly scared poor Helena into an early grave! That would have been awful, too. Nina was about to turn her, too."_

 _"Well, they're happy now, so I guess all is forgiven."_

 _"Indeed. Tell me, though, how are things between you and Veronica? She's been…well, how to put this delicately…"_

 _"Whoring around? Yeah, she dumped me."_

 _"I thought that might be the case. Although Casper says you told him that you dumped her."_

 _"I tell Casper a lot of things, some of them very untrue, you know this."_

 _"I do, but I'm glad you don't need to lie to me."_

 _"I don't need to lie to him, it's just so fun! He likes it, you know, figuring out what people really mean."_

 _"Sí. I know. But stop deflecting. Did she hurt you?"_

 _"No. Not physically, at least. Everywhere else? Yeah. A lot. I…with you, Viejo, I never feel lesser. I never feel...human. But with the rest of the gang, I sometimes feel so insignificant. I know that for most of you, I'm just a passerby, someone here for a moment and then gone forever, but I want to be more. I want a family. I want permanence. I've spent my whole life wondering where I'll be shuffled off to next. I want to come home."_

 _"And you thought you'd found your home with Veronica?"_

 _"…I don't know. I don't think so. I just…I fell in love. In retrospect, maybe it wasn't love. I don't know. But she was my first, in so many ways. I used to read about these kinds of things, and wonder what it was like, but now? Mostly I'm just disappointed. I haven't really had time to think it over. I just feel like a convenience to her. Or I was, anyway."_

 _"Let me tell you a secret, Chiquita. Home is not something you find. Home is something you create. If you want this place to be your home, it will become home. All of us are here because we want to be. All of us joined Miguel because we wanted to make our home here with him. We accept each new brother or sister because they want to be one of us. But you, my darling…I have yet to hear you say you want to make a home with us. You only ever say that you want a home."_

 _"Túlio, I…"_

 _"Ssshh, Chiquita. I'm not hurt. None of us are. You and Veronica were not meant to be. You know this now. You deserve the world, and so does Veronica. I'm angry with her on your behalf, but I knew of her nature long before I met you. Perhaps I should have warned you, but you're a stubborn one, Mae. You needed to learn for yourself, to grow on your own. If she had hurt you beyond repair, believe me, Miguel himself would have cast her out, but this was not the case. Mae, you are meant for a wonderful home. You are meant for great things. I can see it."_

 _"Túlio, you know you can't actually see the future, right?"_

 _"Hush, Chiquita. Let me have my moment."_

 _"Fiiiine."_

 _"Mae, mi hermosa, I don't know what the future holds, it's true, but I think you're not meant for this place. Not that you're not welcome, but because your home lies beyond the city. I can't speak for the others, not really. Perhaps they do see you as insignificant. Perhaps they are all cruel. Perhaps they are all liars. People are not so easy to define. We are all more than one thing, even if we do not acknowledge it ourselves. Do not label them so quickly, Chiquita, because you will find yourself missing the parts of them that are worth cherishing." He sighed, his breath rustling like old, dry leaves._

 _"You're hurt. I understand, believe me, I do. Just remember that out of all of us, Mae, my love for you is beyond doubt. This I swear to you. You are my sister."_

 _It took many long moments for Mae to respond. A new plane flew by. A passing truck somewhere in the distance set off a blaring car alarm. Someone turned on the stereo down below them, shouts of pleasure echoing in the air as an impromptu party began. All the while, Túlio held her hand._

 _"I love you too."_

* * *

"She's waking up."

"Close the door. The sun's gonna rise."

"Hang on, I'll make sure everything's locked up."

"Hurry up."

"Has anyone seen the cooler?"

"It's in the corner."

"Thanks."

Mae's eyes fluttered open just as someone switched on the lamp. With a hiss, she shut them again, wincing as searing pain shot through her head. A muffled apology was whispered into her ear, a pair of lips brushing across her forehead. Paul. Another set kissed her cheek. Marko. Someone's hand was resting on her knee. Most likely David, if the rhythmic tapping was anything to go by. The door to the secret room closed, and Dwayne could be heard messing with what she assumed to be the cooler, his disgruntled muttering barely audible above the soft music filtering out of the stereo. Deciding to give it another try, Mae opened her eyes once more, her wincing less pronounced now that she was expecting the ache the light would bring.

"Hey, girlie." Paul murmured, his blonde hair barely visible out of the corner of her eye.

She was laying down on the boys' makeshift beds, her head and shoulders laying on Marko's lap. Her legs were apparently on Paul's lap. After a few moments, she noticed that David's hand was still on her knee, seemingly with no intent of leaving it. A quickly aborted stretch showed that she was in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, her hair damp and skin clean. She hurt all over and her mouth tasted like dead rat. Mae was just about to ask for a drink when Dwayne, ever the attentive brother, came over with a bottle of water and a pack of cookies. He sat next to her head, helping Marko lift her up onto the younger's lap. With a small sigh, she leaned into her boyfriend, letting him help her drink with only a minimal amount of grumbling.

"I'm not an infant, guys…" She croaked, her throat raw from screaming.

"No, but you're the baby of the family now, so get used to it." David grinned, his smirk only growing wider when she glared daggers at him.

"Fuck yeah! I get to boss you around now!" Paul laughed, ignoring her weak kick to his stomach.

"Assholes. All of you, assholes." Mae groaned.

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Mark complained, but his giggles weren't being smothered very well, so she glared at him too.

"That's it. Dwayne's my only brother now." Mae huffed before accepting a few cookies from the brunet, who smiled triumphantly at the others.

On the surface, everything seemed normal, as if everyone was just ignoring the events of the past day, but the tension lingered like an unwelcome guest. Even though Mae wanted to just forget everything, she knew that someone would bring the topic up sooner or later. Paul was fidgeting, his fingers picking at some loose strings at the bottoms of her old sweatpants. Marko was quiet as usual, but his body was tense beneath her, and his hand was gripping her waist so tightly that she was afraid that he'd bruise her if he didn't stop soon. Dwayne's eyes kept running over her face, as if looking for something he'd missed, some injury that still needed tending to. David had the best poker face, but she liked to think that she knew him well enough to tell that this was all an act for the benefit of his family, to put them at ease when even he was worried. It made her want to scream. Since screaming would probably freak them all out more than it would make her feel better, she decided to just jump in headfirst and rip the band-aid right off.

"So. I was kidnapped. That was fun." Mae's voice was surprisingly calm, but she was obviously shaking. Marko growled, pulling her even closer, tilting her head back so he could look her in the eye.

"Don't you fucking make this into a joke, Mae." His teeth were bared, human but no less frightening. "You…You were gone, and…"

"Don't get all emotional on me now, babe." Mae's laugh was hollow, but she leaned in and kissed him gently. "I'm here. Let me handle this my way, babe. If I take this too seriously, I…I won't be able to get it out."

Marko was quiet for a moment, searching her eyes and reading her face. Mae let him, grateful that her brothers were giving them a minute. When he found whatever he was looking for, Marko nodded, sighing as he tried to let go of the pressure building inside of him. Mae kissed his cheek before turning back to David, who was still wearing his mask of calm.

"I was walking to the store, soaking wet. Fucking rain. I usually love it, but right now, I'm not too happy about it." She scrubbed her hands across her face, biting back the anxiety. "I was almost to the door of the grocery store when I felt someone watching me. I stopped to try and see who it was when someone stuffed a rag in my face and held me so tight that I couldn't break away. I bit down and hoped to god that you guys would find the blood trail. I was in and out for hours. Every time I woke up, I was in a different place: the back of a car, some dusty old room, the car again, then the basement. I don't remember what happened, since whenever I woke up the rag was stuffed in my face again. Next thing I know, I'm here. I think I remember you washing my hair, babe, but I'm not sure. I never saw who got me, or if there was anyone else."

With a final, shuddering sigh, Mae leaned back into Marko, curling up as much as she could. She grabbed Dwayne's hand and held it so tightly that it would have hurt anyone who wasn't a vampire. David kept his hand on her knee, while Paul moved closer to Marko, his thumb stroking her ankle. They were all silent for a moment while Depeche Mode played in the background, David Gahan begging to see the listener stripped down to the bone. David was the first to stir, looking strangely young in just his shirt and jeans, his feet bare and his hair mussed.

"The guy who got you was a human named Isaac, a drug dealer. Paul knew him and recognized his scent. If it wasn't for Paul, we wouldn't have found you." Paul preened a little under the praise. "We tracked you to his shack over by the shore. You were tied to a chair…with Isaac's corpse at your feet. A message was written behind you on the wall in Isaac's blood: 'Run and hide, little boys. Mother's home.' We're not sure if _he_ wrote it, or if someone else did. It definitely wasn't you, though. We didn't find any blood on your hands. His death, though…"

"What about it?" Mae asked, leaning forwards a bit. She felt Marko try to pull her back, but she ignored him. Paul and Dwayne tensed up again, which only added to her unease.

"He was killed by a vampire. We couldn't find any trace of them, but that was probably because of all the blood splattered around. They managed to keep from leaving any footprints or handprints, but I'd bet you good money that it was the rogues."

"…So they were behind all of this…" Mae bit her lip, her hands shaking. She clasped them together tightly to keep them still.

"We think so. At least one of them is older than we thought, if he can control a human for that long during the daytime." David ran his hand through his hair.

"But what about the message? What does it meant?"

"It's a challenge. They want to take over this town. We'll have to fight them, sooner rather than later. Fucking bastards. I had this whole thing planned out. We were gonna find wherever they're hiding and ambush them, but that plan's scrapped."

"Why? We can still find them and kill them before they can come after us."

"It's not that simple. This is a challenge to my authority." David growled in irritation. "While they're marked for death, this challenge, if they make it public like I think they will, forces my hand. We'll have to meet them somewhere visible and fight it out. Loser dies, winner takes all."

"But how are they gonna make it public? The councils want them dead." Mae's mind was racing a mile a minute.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling that they'll do it remotely. They could find some wanderer and make them send a message to the San Francisco council, maybe. Regardless of how they do it, if we ambush them now, it puts us in a precarious position. Someone could find out that they challenged us and come and take up their fight. It makes me look weak as a leader if I kill them now. Fucking politics. I wish I'd never known about the goddamn councils.

"You've been doing some studying." Mae grinned, her voice teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, chuckles." David shoved her, making sure not to use too much force. If her laughter was anything to go by, Mae wasn't as intimidated as she should have been. Oh, well. He'd let it slide. Last night had sucked hard enough that they could all use a little amusement.

"…Something's worrying me, though…" Marko frowned, absentmindedly stroking Mae's side.

"What is it?" Dwayne asked. He kept watching Mae, nudging another snack into her hand whenever she finished the one she was currently eating.

"It's the way they ended the note. 'Mother's home.' I can't be the only one who thinks it might have something to do with Widow Johnson."

"The thought did cross my mind." David leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped beneath his chin. "But I don't want to jump to conclusions. They could be working for her, but I don't see why. People like that chafe at authority, and she hasn't made a play for power yet, despite having ample time to."

"I wouldn't put it past her to find some way to use them, though." Marko replied. "From what you've told me, she was a tricky one when you and Max first came here. You took her power away. She probably wants it back."

"You could be right, but we can't go after her without solid evidence. We're about to have even more attention brought down on us. We don't need to add the old bitch to our troubles right now."

"The way she was creeping on Mae isn't exactly what I'd call friendly, though." Dwayne rested his chin on his palm. "She knows Mae's our weakest link. It makes sense for Widow Johnson to go after her."

"Like I said, you guys could be right. To be honest, I'm inclined to agree with you." David snatched a cookie for himself, talking with his mouth full. "But like I also said, we can't do much about her at the moment. I'd love to go rip her head off, believe me. I'd like to go stake those rogue bastards while they sleep, too, but if the councils get involved, we'll be outnumbered so badly we might as well walk into the sun by ourselves. What we need right now is backup."

"Backup?" Paul tilted his head. "Who we gonna call?"

"Ghostbusters." Marko grinned, cackling when Paul smacked him upside the head.

"Nah. I got someone better." David turned to Mae. "While you were out, I placed a call to your friends down in L.A. It took a bit of doing, but I finally got on the line with Túlio. He's coming up tomorrow night."

"We better get ready, then. He'll probably bring some of the guys along with him." Mae groaned, rubbing at her forehead. Thinking about how much her friends ate was a lot easier than thinking about the mess they were in. "They'll eat me out of house and home, I swear. For people who don't need to eat human food, you guys sure eat a lot of it!"

"We'll keep an eye on the kitchen. We promise." Paul poked at her shin.

"With your friends here, we have better odds of things going our way. They can't help in the fight itself, but they can keep things on the up and up." David shrugged. "And if your friends are as connected as you say, they can get us some support from the Los Angeles council, at least."

"True. Miguel is on the council, actually." Mae stretched a little, her spine popping a little bit. "He can't force them to do anything, but he's one of the oldest vampires in L.A. His influence is undeniable, and Túlio is usually allowed to make decisions in his stead. He's the Dwayne to Miguel's David."

"Then things should hopefully go our way." David laughed.

There was silence again for a while. Mae and Marko stayed curled up together, hands linked, but Paul succumbed to his restless nature and began shuffling through the various cassettes and records still stored in the room. Dwayne finished making sure that Mae ate something, his silent gaze enough to make her finish her food, despite her lack of appetite. David grabbed a beer out of the cooler, settling for alcohol since he couldn't smoke. Halfway through his beer, he noticed Dwayne and Marko sharing subtle looks over Mae's head. Their girl was half-asleep, her eyes closed and her body relaxed. The only thing that indicated that she was awake was her breathing pattern, which, while calm, wasn't slow enough for sleep yet. David caught their attention, raising an eyebrow. Marko glanced down at Mae, his frown deepening. Ah. So that was it. David hadn't planned on saying anything until morning, but they did have a point. It was probably better to get it over with now rather than later. Paul, meanwhile, had settled on Van Halen and was about to change out the cassettes when David cleared his throat.

"There's something else, Mae."

"Mmmm?" Mae stirred, lazily rubbing at her eyes as she sat up again. "What is it?"

"…There's no way to say this delicately, so I'm just going to say it. We think you've been given blood."

"…What?" Mae's whole body froze; even her lungs were motionless, her heart skipping a beat.

"Something about you is different. We can't see into your mind as easily, and there's something there, something that's blocking us out." David leaned forward, holding her gaze. "I think one of the rogues gave you his blood while you were knocked out. It only takes a little bit, and you probably swallowed it without waking up."

"Y-You mean I'm…I'm…"

"A half-vampire. At least, we think so. Tomorrow we can test it out." David took her hand, halting its constant trembling. "We can fix it, Mae. Once they're dead, their hold over you will be gone. It's one of the reasons why I called Túlio. He's old enough that he could hold you back if the others tried to use the blood to command you."

"…I…" Mae was at a loss for words, a rare thing. She held onto David's hand like a lifeline, trying to process everything she'd just been told. Marko rested his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist.

"Breathe, babe. We'll kill them, and this'll all just be a terrible nightmare." He promised, kissing her neck. "We'll tear them apart so slowly they'll wish they'd never come to Santa Carla."

"You better." Mae whispered, her nails digging into David's skin. He let her, taking it as punishment for letting things get so beyond him. Logically, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop it, but she was family. His greatest fear was failing to protect his family, and he may have let them down yet again. Mae loosening her grip on his hand broke the eldest's introspection. She took a deep breath, then spoke.

"David, I want you to promise me one thing." Mae's voice was calm, but her eyes were slowly turning from fear to anger.

"Anything."

"When the last one is one the ground, and you're about to tear his head off…"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure he's looking at me. I want to be the last thing he sees before he dies. I want him to see me laughing at his pain. I want him to know that I won. I want him to feel the same misery I've endured, to see the source of his terror taking pleasure in his destruction. Wherever he goes after he dies, I want him to remember my face. I want him to suffer."

David bared his teeth in a murderous mockery of a smile. If there was one thing he loved about his little sister, it was her ability to turn her fear into anger and hatred. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, grinning all the while. Paul's quiet cackle mixed with Dwayne's growl of approval. Marko licked his lips, his eyes promising murder while his fangs glinted in the dim lighting. Despite her shivering, Mae joined the others showing her teeth, defiant until the end. David had never been so proud of his family.

"I promise, little sister. I'll tear his eyelids off so he can't hide. He'll see you while his soul gets pulled from his body. Everyone will know you ordered his death. He'll feel every last second of it, I swear."

For the briefest of seconds, Mae's eyes turned a sickly yellow, the rims lined in red. The ghost of what she could become flickered before his eyes before vanishing, replaced by a gentle, slightly depraved smile.

"Aw, David. You're the best."


	12. Family Reunion

((Hello my darlings! I promise that this is the last "talking" chapter before we get to all the fighting I've been promising you guys! Thank you so much for your patience! In the meantime, let's meet Mae's old friends from the City of Angels. If you like the fic, why not check out my tumblr at .com and come talk to Mae and the Lost Boys! That's right, drop them a note and ask the boys and their girl your deepest, darkest questions. Rules are posted on the tumblr, but trust me, there aren't many. Also, here's a quick glossary of the nicknames Túlio uses, because he's a massive showoff:

Viejo - Old Man  
Chiquita - Little Girl  
Zorra - Fox (A woman who is easy to get into bed; a slut)  
Calaca - Skeleton (A skinny person)  
Cabrón - A male goat (An asshole)

And now, onto the fic! As always, comments feed my dark, dusty soul!))

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An unearthly chorus haunted the kitchen. Two voices, so disparate, and yet working in perfect coordination, sang every word of "In The Air Tonight" without a single error. The radio was loud enough to provide a third voice, but the singers diligently washing the plates in the sink overpowered it. No one would ever accuse Paul and Mae of being the greatest voices of their generations, but they could certainly hold a tune better than anyone else in the house, and damn it if they weren't going to show off whenever they could. Paul wasn't the biggest fan of Phil Collins, but for the sake of literal harmony, he dusted off his knowledge of pop songs enough to sing with her as they worked. Up on the landing, Marko lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as his legs dangled over the ledge, each one wedged between a post in the railing. David and Dwayne were reading in the library, trying to help maintain a sense of normalcy as they waited for their guests to arrive. So far, it seemed to be working.

Three hours after sunset, a quiet knocking rang throughout the living room of the old Clayton house. The mismatched family inside were pulled from their various occupations as Mae rose to answer the door, peering out through the peephole before opening the door, her entire demeanor perking up with excitement.

"Túlio! Casper! Veronica, what the...Dollar Fifty! Put me down!" Mae screamed, her feet dangling off the ground as she was lifted into a crushing bear hug. She groaned, wishing she could swat at her friend. "I swear to god, if you don't put me down this instant…!"

"You'll what?" Dollar Fifty grinned, laughing as he finally set her down. "Send me to bed without dinner? I hate to tell you Mae, but you're a few decades too late for that!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll think of something!" Mae grumbled, her smile indicating that this was a well-worn joke between the two of them. Her brothers gathered behind her, looking over the strangers with a wary curiosity as Mae ushered her old friends inside, inviting them in one by one before locking the door.

Túlio was a man of average height, with warm brown skin and long black hair. He gave off a carefree air, his eyes friendly and his smile languid. If his appearance was anything to go by, he was something of a New Romantic; his clothes were bohemian, but not gaudy. The man behind him, who Mae introduced as Casper, was a pale, skinny thing with hair that was an unnatural shade of white. His bright blue eyes darted around sporadically, searching for someone or something that was never there. He was heavily tattooed, covered in everything from old-fashioned sailor's ink to the more modern pieces that decorated his neck. Where Túlio was bohemian, Casper was a street punk, his clothes mismatched and barely fitting his thin frame.

Dollar Fifty was a literal bear of a man (Mae had let it slip once that he was the gayest man to ever live in Los Angeles), but despite his aura of joviality, his eyes held the promise of unspeakable pain for anyone who crossed him. He was the tallest of them all, easily six foot-five or taller, looking like a stereotypical African-American football player, with muscles that would make any bodybuilder cry. His closely shaved head gleamed in the evening light, his biker clothes littered with patches bearing the names of famous metal bands. The last to enter was a woman just a few inches taller than Mae, her face meticulously painted like a glam rock starlet ready to pose for the front pages of a magazine. Her fashion choices screamed "Asian Cyndi Lauper", her blue-streaked hair teased high enough to rival Paul's. Mae's voice faltered when she introduced Veronica, and Marko's arm not so subtly slid around her waist. Túlio chuckled at the possessive display.

"It is good to see you again, Chiquita." Túlio's voice was melodic and lilting, still heavily accented despite (or probably because of) decades of living in Los Angeles. His hand came up to caress her cheek, his smile turning gloomy. "I was so worried about you."

"Fine job you've done showing it." Dwayne grumbled. Mae wanted to elbow him in the side, but Túlio just laughed, leaning against Casper to steady himself.

"I see you've made quite the family for yourself, mi hermosa. But to the matter at hand, I think?" He raised an eyebrow at David, who simply nodded and sat down, the others following his lead. Mae patted Marko's hand before gently sliding it off, sitting on a chair between David and Túlio. Everyone else either picked a chair or leaned against a wall.

"Forgive me if I forget any details, my friends, but it was quite an arduous journey to get here. We flew the whole way, so we spent quite a lot of time avoiding being seen. All the trains out of Los Angeles were cancelled, and all the flights were booked." Túlio began, leaning back in what was perhaps the ugliest chair in the house. Mae had almost laughed when he'd selected it; it was just like him to pick the one thing everyone else ignored. It was why she liked him so much.

"So this seems to be the situation: the rogues that have been tormenting my dearest Chiquita so have challenged you all to a battle for dominance over this city. They did so by capturing Mae, tying her up in a basement, and killing some poor cabrón so they could write their little declaration with his blood, sí? And before this, Widow Johnson made a pass at Mae and hypnotized one of your brothers all in an effort to…get to know her, you say?" David nodded, and Túlio continued.

"That is indeed strange, but much of what we know about her has been lost to time. Records were not so good back when she first staked a claim on Santa Carla, and the council has done little to remedy that mistake. I'd apologize on their behalf, but frankly, most of them are old bastards anyway who should really retire already. To be fair, though, this really should be the San Francisco council's duty. They are closer, after all."

"Yeah. I've been wanting to talk to you about these councils, Túlio." David stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles and resting his temple against his fist. "From what Mae tells me, and from what I've found out on my own, they're supposed to keep everything peaceful, right?" Túlio gave a quiet noise of assent. "Then were in the fucking hell are they? We've been dealing with this shit for months now, and so far, not a single one of you has lifted a goddamn finger! I can understand that they aren't really invested in me and the boys, but your Miguel is supposedly on one of these councils. If you all are such good friends of Mae's, why aren't you the ones protecting her?"

Mae barely held back a gasp. She knew that David wouldn't bother with being cordial and diplomatic, but she hadn't thought he'd be this candid about his disgust over the council's inaction. Her eyes darted back to Túlio, who was watching David with a calculating gaze. A tense moment passed before he reverted back to his lazy smile, which set Mae at ease. Good. At least he wasn't taking it as a personal insult, or as one against Miguel. For all that Túlio was content to live and let live, he was fiercely protective of his coven, especially Miguel. As his right-hand man, it was his duty to take every slight, every threat as seriously as death itself. He seemed to be making an exception for David, probably for Mae's benefit, but it was an exception nonetheless. Thank god.

"David, my friend, we do not know each other very well. Out of my deep love for Mae, I have come here under the flag of peace, so to speak, but do not forget who I am." His fangs peeked from behind his smiling lips, his eyes flashing yellow for a second before returning to normal. "I understand your anger and your frustration. Believe me, I have felt it myself. I will explain all these things in due time. First, though, I must ask: have you formally accepted the challenge, and if so, where will the duel be held?"

"I should think that us taking Mae home would be enough of an answer, but I'd be willing to find a way to contact them if that's what needs to be done. I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible, so we'll fight them tonight if we can find them." David answered, unperturbed by Túlio's threat.

If he hadn't been so caught up in his fury at the rogues for daring to challenge his leadership and threatening his family, he would have taken a gentler approach towards Mae's old friends. He knew that they needed the Los Angeles vampires on their side, but right now, he had no time to waste on pleasantries. Luckily for him, Túlio seemed to be a reasonable sort.

"I'll send Casper and Dollar Fifty to find them. Casper is very good at tracking people who don't want to be found." Túlio gestured to the punk, who gave a deranged grin before returning to his perusal of the pictures on the wall. Túlio and Mae shared a look, giggling like they were sharing an old joke. "You must forgive Casper, his attention span can be, shall we say, limited."

"We'll take all the help we can get." David shrugged, giving the skinny man a once over before turning back to Túlio. "Now back to the part where the councils are dropping the ball…"

Túlio sighed, running his hand through his hair, mussing it as he struggled to hold back a litany of curses. "You must understand, my friend, that if it were solely up to me, I would have been here the entire time. Mae is my sister, and I love her dearly. To see her in such danger tears at me every night, but I have more than just myself to consider. Miguel forbade me from accompanying her, and he laced that order with the sire's command. None of us could follow her, although he has yet to tell me why. I think you may know something of reticent sires, yes?"

David groaned. "You're preaching to the choir, man."

"Sí. This is why I could do nothing more than call Mae to give her what news I could find. As for the councils, well…there is a war going on, a war with many factions. There is a gang uprising in Los Angeles among the city's vampire covens. Some of the smaller gangs are thirsting for power, and they are only one step above the rogues in terms of danger. Periodically, there will be an uprising like this against whoever is currently in power. While I'm all for political revolution, these particular bands are nothing more than drug-running thugs, half of them from Mexico. If you've never been down there, it's a lawless place to be a vampire these days. Miguel and the council are busy trying to destroy the insurgents, but it is a difficult task. I myself have slain many of the radicals, as have my brothers and sisters." Veronica scoffed from her seat, looking as if the mere thought of the militants made her want to gag.

"From what I can gather, the San Francisco council is also dealing with an uprising, but on a much smaller scale. Those hijos de puta are a bunch of overdressed, overbearing leftovers from the days when noble blood actually meant something, and they're twice as inept as any sickly king of Europe ever was. For a city so progressive, their leaders are certainly old-fashioned. We won't get much help from them. Luckily, the Los Angeles council has assured San Francisco's cooperation in this little incident, and they won't interfere unless absolutely necessary. Both courts are more than content to let you rule Santa Carla, my friend."

"That definitely makes things easier for us." David murmured, rubbing at his temple. "I'm not exactly pleased by how little they're willing to help us, but if there's a war going on, I'd rather be dealing with this than a rebellion."

"I agree, but that being said, you have my deepest sympathies. Gangs are predictable. Rogues are not." Túlio and David shared a brief look of commiseration over the difficulties of being a leader among vampires. Despite the blonde's anger at the overall situation, he knew that he and the brunet could become good friends once this was all over. They were quite alike, even if their methods were incredibly different. Family always comes first.

"Now that this unpleasantness has been dealt with…" Túlio grinned, the air in the room becoming light once again. He got up, everyone else standing with him. "Casper! Dollar Fifty! Please head out and find the rogues. Deliver our message to them gently, if you please."

"Yeah, gently. Got it, jefe." Dollar Fifty laughed, slinging an arm around Casper, drawing him away from a dusty shelf of antique vases. In a gust of air, they were gone, taking off into the night.

"I think I'll go eat out tonight, boss." Veronica stood up, stretching with all the grace of a self-satisfied cat. She sent a flirtatious gaze at Paul and Dwayne, making sure that her body was at the perfect angle to show off her assets as she headed for the door. "Anyone wanna join me?"

"Nah. We got some stuff to do first, but please, enjoy yourself." Paul winked at her, flirting right back. With a pleased little giggle, Veronica disappeared into the night. In an instant, Paul's face was the picture of disgust. "Oh my god, what a skank."

Mae would have laughed, but she was too busy round on Túlio. "Why in the fucking _hell_ did you bring her here, Viejo!?"

"I had no choice. She's the best with a knife out of the entire coven, and Miguel asked me to take her along. For all that she's a giant zorra, she's good to have in a fight, you know this." He reached out and drew Mae into an embrace, the girl sighing before leaning into him, clinging tightly to her oldest friend. "Believe me, Chiquita, if I could have left her behind, I would have. I know she hurt you. She's only gotten worse lately. Frankly, I'd love it if she moved on to another coven, but alas, we can't always have what we want."

"Tell me about it." Mae's voice was muffled by Túlio's jacket.

"This will all be over soon, mi hermosa." He murmured, burying his face in her hair as if they were the only two people in the world. Mae's brothers could practically feel the history between them; this was a bond that could not be broken by time or circumstance, a bond that rivaled any that they had formed with her. After several long moments, Mae pulled back, smiling up at her friend.

"I'm glad you're here, Viejo. You'll always be welcome in my home, even after I turn." She promised, not even bothering to check with David. If he didn't want Túlio in Mae's life, he could go pound sand. Luckily for her, even though she couldn't see it, David was merely watching them, observing this living demonstration of Mae's past with interest.

"And you will always be welcome in mine." Túlio turned his gaze to the others, his smile beatific. "A long time ago, Mae told me that she wanted a home. I think she's finally found it." Mae elbowed him, blushing. "And if any of you hurt her, I will tear you into such tiny pieces that even the mice won't want to eat you."

"Túlio!" Mae gasped, flushing red with embarrassment.

"She's family now." David brought his hand up to rest on Mae's shoulder, his eyes open and honest. "No one fucks with our family. She's one of us, and she always will be."

"Excellent. I will hold you to that, my friend." The brunet nodded, sensing the truth in David's words.

"Now, there is just one more thing…" Túlio's voice went soft, as if he were speaking to a frightened animal. Perhaps he was, or would be. "Mae, look this way, if you please."

Mae frowned, turning her body towards him, a question on her lips. In a movement so fast even the other vampires couldn't see it, Túlio drew something from his pocket, flicked its lid off, and threw the contents at Mae's face. With a gasp, Mae tried in vain to shield herself with her arms, but the liquid splattered onto her face and neck, dripping down onto her lips at a sluggish pace. It took a second for the smell to hit her nose, but when it did, it was unmistakable: blood. Before anyone had a chance to protest or question Túlio's actions, Mae's eyes went acid yellow. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the blood on her lips. With a low growl, her fingers started scraping at her face, intent on getting every last drop of blood to bring to her mouth. The others looked on in various states of horror or despair as she licked her fingers clean, oblivious to the others around her. It was only when all the blood was gone that she froze, finally realizing what Túlio had done.

"…It's true, then. They've fed her their blood." The man in question leaned back in his seat, tucking the small flask back inside of its pocket. "I must ask your forgiveness, Chiquita. It is only the blood of a cow, but its scent is strong enough to trick a halfer's senses into transforming. If I had merely handed you the flask, your willpower would have prevented you from showing the symptoms of the change."

"…You owe me so badly you'll still be paying this shit off a hundred years from now, Viejo." Mae growled, her eyes still a sickly shade of yellow.

"Of course, mi hermosa. And I'll happily pay the debt, but believe me, this was the least painful way to figure out the truth." Túlio sighed, running his hand through his hair as Mae snarled at him, her features slowly shifting back to normal. "Since they only fed you their blood yesterday, you should be able to hold off your bloodlust long enough for your brothers to kill your would-be sires. They're not very old or powerful, or it wouldn't have been so easy for you to return to normal just now. Thank the gods for that."

"So it'll be safe to bring Mae with us when we fight them?" Dwayne asked, his hand twitching, itching to wring somebody's neck.

"Sí. If nothing else, I can hold her back if they try to drag her into things." Túlio shrugged. "Hopefully, Casper and Dollar Fifty arrange a meeting for tomorrow or the night after. Every evening that passes will tear away at Mae's resistance, and for all her strength, the call of blood will soon be irresistible."

"Then I guess all we can do is wait." Mae huffed, absentmindedly licking the last traces of blood off of her lips. She stared out the window, missing the concerned gazes of her brothers, both old and new.

Waiting was always the hardest part.

* * *

Everyone had gone their separate ways soon after: David and Paul went out hunting, Marko went outside to tinker with the bikes, and Dwayne made himself comfortable in his usual spot in the library, listening to the local rock station on the radio. Túlio and Mae had retreated upstairs to her room, and he could faintly hear them catching up. Jealousy had reared its ugly, possessive head not long after his sister had gone upstairs, and he was doing his best to tamp it down. Dwayne liked to think that he was fairly levelheaded, especially compared to the rest of his brothers (except for David, who was usually the definition of stone cold). Logically, he knew that Mae had friends outside of their little family, but he had thought that they were just casual ones, their connections ones of convenience rather than love and trust. Despite this, Dwayne was a vampire, through and through, and vampires despised sharing. He was Mae's brother, not Túlio. Out of the four of them, Mae saw him as the closest to a blood brother that she'd ever had. She'd said so before, often when they were sitting together at the stall when their customers were few and far between. She'd never really told him much about her past life, but she hadn't needed to. He knew everything he needed to know about her, and that was enough for him. After all, he hadn't told her everything about his past either.

Laughter filtered down through the boards above his head, but Dwayne was too deep in his reverie to hear it. All of his brothers had changed after their second deaths; they'd matured, remembering that even though they were vampires now, they had once been human, and all those little weaknesses still lingered somewhere in the backs of their minds. You didn't become a monster overnight, and you never truly forgot what you once were. Dwayne prided himself on not needing much, never holding onto anything for longer than was necessary. Family, however, was his exception in all things. Mae was family, and as such, she belonged to him, not the man currently in her room. He may not love her the way Marko did, but hedid love her in his own way, the same way he loved his brothers beyond what he had ever thought himself capable of feeling. If Marko was her lover, and Paul her best friend, and David her captain, then Dwayne was truly her brother, in bond if not blood. Túlio could fuck right off for all he cared.

But that was it, wasn't it? He _did_ care: he cared about what Mae wanted, he cared if she loved Túlio more than him, he cared if she suddenly realized that she missed Los Angeles enough that she would leave them. Psychologists would probably tell him he had abandonment and mommy issues, and they were probably right. He was afraid of her leaving after he'd grown so attached to her. The others had the same fears, but not to the extent he did. They didn't know loss the way he did. Again, that little bit of cold logic in his brain told him that Mae wouldn't leave, that she was allowed to have more than one brother, but the animal in his soul that was screaming that his territory was being invaded drowned it out. He sat in his chair, stewing, barely acknowledging Paul when he breezed back in, blood drying on his chin. The blonde was strangely clean, so he had likely been extremely careful when feeding, wanting to avoid having to shower while strangers were in their house. Paul flopped down onto the chair next to Dwayne's, snatching the long-ignored book from the elder's hands.

"I didn't think Austen was your thing, bro."

"It's not."

"Then why were you reading it?"

"Because fuck you, that's why."

"Dude! Chill, man. I'm just messing with you." Paul leaned over, setting the book aside. He tilted his head, studying his brother. "What the fuck's up with you, man?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. It's Mae's friends, isn't it?" He took Dwayne's silence as a yes. "Is it cause they were dicks to her…except for that one guy, I guess, or is it cause you're jealous?"

Dwayne's glare could have given a mortal a heart attack. Paul, as usual, was unflappable in the face of danger.

"Ooooh. Jealousy, then." Paul poked Dwayne's forehead. "Look, bro, she's not leaving. Mr. Fancypants up there has been her friend for a long time, and I think he's the only one who actually gave two shits about her. She's allowed to have more than one brother, you know. You're not being replaced, and you weren't the replacement either. You don't own her, just like you don't own any of us, and we're still here after all this time. And if you're worried about the rest of those guys, she's not fragile, either. She can handle dealing with her ex-girlfriend for a few days. Besides, I'm sure Lady McSkankwhore will be off getting fucked or doing the fucking pretty much the whole time we aren't actively fighting those rogue dicks, so just chill. You're a vampire, not a whiny goth bitch. You're better than this."

"…You know, sometimes it's easy to forget you have a brain under all that hairspray, Paul." Dwayne's lips lifted in a small smile, which only grew when Paul let out an indignant noise.

"I'll have you know I was the smartest guy in my whole neighborhood!"

"Yeah? And which neighborhood was that?"

"…I don't remember."

This time, the laughter came from the bottom floor. Up in Mae's room, Túlio hid a smile behind his hand. His sister's family might be rough around the edges, but what they lacked in cohesion, they made up for with raw emotion. When this was all over, he could go back to L.A. knowing he was leaving Mae in good hands.

* * *

Two hours to sunrise found eight vampires and one human strewn about the living room once again, all the seats and half the floor taken up by various bodies. Casper and Dollar Fifty had returned from their mission just a few minutes ago, covered in dirt and dust. Veronica had shown up a half-hour earlier, looking like the cat that got the cream, her lipstick smeared and blood staining her jacket. Mae had kept to the kitchen, messing with a woven leather bracelet and ignoring her ex with brutal efficiency. Marko had been hovering around her since he'd come in from the bike shed, studying his girlfriend's strange mix of irritation and melancholy with unease. The Mae he knew was stronger than this, but he'd also never been on the receiving end of such obvious heartbreak, so he bit his tongue. Instead, he did his best to be a good boyfriend, glaring daggers at Veronica and plotting various ways to make her existence as wretched as possible. It seemed like Dwayne and Paul had the same idea, giving her looks that dripped with venom. David was above it all, as usual, choosing to spend his time chatting with Túlio, discussing strategy and politics like he was born to do it. Now that the messengers were back, Túlio took over once again, turning to his brothers.

"So, Calaca, what did you find out?" Casper giggled at the nickname, its meaning lost on those whose grasp of Spanish was limited at best, which was most of the people in the room.

"The rogues are holing up in an abandoned house on the other side of town. It's just them. I couldn't smell anyone else. Bones everywhere, lots of dead rats. Fucking nasty, reminds me of this gangbanger I used to know…" Casper trailed off, staring into the distance.

"Keep on track, Calaca." Túlio's voice was gentle and soothing, and Casper snapped back to reality.

"Yeah, uh…where was I? Right, the rogues. They've got the message, boss man. Real gentle, just like you said." He cackled, its insanity rivaling Paul at his creepiest. "They woulda pissed themselves if they still could!" Casper's laughter faded into a quiet, unintelligible muttering.

"They set the time and place, and I figured that since y'all would rather get this over with, we accepted on your behalf." Dollar Fifty continued when it was obvious that Casper was lost to his own mind again. "Tomorrow at midnight, by the cliff where the old hotel used to be. They said it would mean something to you."

"It used to be our home before it flooded." David supplied. "They're probably trying to play mind games." He rolled his eyes. "They're failing. Badly."

"Is the time and place acceptable, my friend? It will be difficult to change it, but we could manage." Túlio offered, raising an eyebrow at David, who shook his head.

"Nah. We have the advantage. We know that piece of land better than anyone else still alive. They can't pull any tricks on us without us knowing way ahead of time. We'll meet them there as promised."

"Marvelous! Then I suggest we all get as much sleep as possible. I do not doubt that the rogues will try to enact some kind of trap, so we must be on our guard. Chiquita, where can we rest for the night?" Túlio stood, stretching his back.

"I cleared out some space in the attic. I had Paul check it out; no light should leak in. Just keep the door shut and don't mess with the blackout curtains on the walls and you should be fine. If something happens, there's a few empty trunks up there that you should be able to squeeze into. I doubt you'll need to, though." Mae pressed a kiss to Marko's lips before rising, leading her guests upstairs. Her old friends shuffled along behind her, Veronica dragging Casper by the hem of his shirt when he tried to wander off towards the library. A few minutes later, Mae walked into the secret room, groaning as she dropped onto her brother's haphazard bedding.

"I was seriously tempted to tell Veronica to find someone to kill and steal their room for the night, but the less I talk to her, the better. Can you believe that bitch? Not only is she trying to get in Paul's pants, she grabbed my ass on my way out!" She grumbled, tugging Marko down for a cuddle, not that she'd ever call it that to his face. Her boyfriend went down without a fight, slipping his hand under her shirt to trace the curve of her hip.

"Look, man, I don't mind a good lay, but I don't stick my dick in crazy." Paul shuddered. "For the first time in decades, I felt dirty when she looked at me!"

"Okay, can we end this bitch fest? I'd like to get some sleep without having to listen to you girls cluck like a bunch of chickens." David groaned, throwing a book in the general direction of the beds. He was trying to change into his pajamas, but Dwayne had decided that playing a game of keep away with his leader's shirt was a better way to spend his time. Even David's dirtiest look wasn't stopping his lieutenant.

"Okay, _Mom_!" Marko laughed, plucking the book off of Paul's face.

After that, the noise started dying down, although it picked up for a moment when David finally managed to pin Dwayne to the floor, looming over the taller man with an evil grin. Dwayne, completely unfazed by the threat, merely grinned and shoved his leader off. If David had really wanted to assert his authority, he wouldn't have joined a wrestling match, so Dwayne wasn't all that concerned. They all needed some normalcy in the face of all these new dangers. Soon enough, they all lay pressed together on the mattresses, listening to Mae's usual complaints that they should just get a couple of bedframes already and turn this into a real bedroom. Marko shut her up with a filthy kiss, flipping Paul off when he tried to critique Marko's technique. The pull of the sun tugged at the vampires' minds, each of them dropping off after doing their best to stay awake. Despite the knowledge that they should be resting, no one wanted to be the first to fall asleep. Tomorrow would be difficult, their confidence in their abilities notwithstanding. If only they could stay like this, safe and content in the presence of their family. If only, if only.

David, as always, was the last to fall asleep, his body rolling over to unconsciously rest an arm over as many of his brothers as he could reach. Maybe he had to be the strong, cold leader when he was awake, but when he slept, his body told the truth.

He would protect his family at all costs, and woe betide anyone who dared to harm them.


	13. Thriller Night

((I hope you guys like this chapter; fight scenes are kind of a new thing for me, so I hope this satisfies your cravings! As always, comments feed my weary soul. Also, it turns out that I didn't have the asks on my tumblr switched on, but they are now! Come ask Mae and the boys whatever you like! You can also send prompts for Mae, the boys, or whoever in the Lost Boys movie. Anyways, without further ado, here we go!))

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In between one second and the next, five pairs of eyes opened simultaneously, staring up at the ceiling with a mix of dread and morbid excitement. The silence was thick with tension, and beneath a haphazard mix of blankets, hands sought one another, holding on so tightly that skin turned paper white beneath heavy fingers. Despite their confidence, the brothers and sister knew that tonight could end in disaster. They had learned the hard way to never underestimate their opponents, and for all their bravado, there was a real fear of losing what they had fought so hard to gain. Tonight was a battle to the death; one could not suffer the intruder to live, after all, not once he'd challenged your authority in your own land. It was only once they heard movement coming from the attic above them that they rose from their beds, hands staying together for as long as possible. Whenever they parted to put on a shirt or a pair of pants, their partner immediately found someone else to cling to. It took them twice as long to get ready than normal, but no one said a thing about it. Once they were all dressed, their outfits practical yet intimidating, they met in the middle of the room as if by prior agreement.

"We'll destroy them. One by one, piece by piece." Dwayne growled, his arm around Mae's shoulders. Paul leaned into him on his other side, resting his weight on the taller man.

"We'll make them pay." He murmured, reaching out to clutch at David's wrist.

"They'll wish they'd never been born." David's voice was quiet, all the more fearsome for its softness. His hand rested on Marko's shoulder, the only outward sign that he was as worried as they were.

"If Túlio's right, they're young, which makes them stupid. They'll make mistakes. We won't. Not again." Marko sneered, shivering when he remembered _how_ his brothers had learned their lesson. His arm was securely wrapped around his girlfriend's waist, her own hand resting on his lower back.

"We're a family. They're just a gang. They want power. We're fighting for something better, something stronger: each other." Mae nodded, squeezing Dwayne's forearm reassuringly. "Ever since you guys stepped through my door, I knew this day was coming. When we first met, I thought you'd cut and run at the first sign of trouble. I thought you would think I wasn't worth the risk." Her smile was a little watery; she wouldn't dishonor their trust by hiding her feelings now.

"They wouldn't be after you if I hadn't come here. I'm sorry. I never thought it would get this far." Mae sighed, leaning into Marko. "If something happens…if they get the better of us…Túlio owes me so many favors, I can ask him for help, he can find a way to keep the rogues from throwing you into a fire…"

"No. Stop." David grabbed her chin, halting her babbling. "We'll do this ourselves. Just us. Just family. I made a promise to you, Mae, and we're keeping it. Even if they kill you, and we escape, they won't stop. They'll just keep coming after us. We're not cowards. We win, or we die. Together." His hand moved down to her shoulder, covering Dwayne's.

"Together." Paul nodded, standing a little straighter. "I always liked the sound of that."

"Together. As always." Dwayne grinned, his fangs peeking out from beneath his lips.

"Together. I'm way too used to you guys to change now." Marko laughed.

"Together." Mae nodded, taking a deep breath, pushing her fear as far away as she could. "Or not at all."

"Or not at all." David repeated, looking at his brothers and sister with pride in his eyes. Yes, they might die. Yes, they could lose everything. Yes, it could all go wrong, but they had something the rogues could never have: they were a family.

"Now let's go kill the bastards!"

* * *

The Los Angeles vampires were waiting in the yard when Mae and the boys finally made their way outside. It was an hour until midnight, but they'd need that time to get to the old cave and make sure that they weren't walking into an ambush. Casper and Dollar Fifty flew ahead to scout the area, while Túlio hitched a ride with David and Veronica rode with Paul. Mae slid onto the back of Marko's bike, holding on tightly to her boyfriend's stomach. The ride to the cliffs was silent, devoid of the usual whooping and hollering her brothers made whenever they were on their bikes. Above them, the night was crystal clear after the recent rains, the moon bright enough that they wouldn't have needed their headlights if they were all human. It took forever and barely a second at all to reach the old cliffs, the way down to the boys' old hideout empty of all signs of life, save for Casper and Dollar Fifty, who were sitting on the rocks close to the edge. The boys parked their bikes as close to the old road as possible, wanting them out of the way during the fight. Túlio and David headed over to the scouts to confer with them, while the others made themselves as comfortable as possible, sitting or standing near their bikes.

"Casper says they've definitely been around here, but not tonight. They didn't find anything, although they didn't go inside the cave itself." Paul told the others, listening in on their leader's conversation.

Dwayne's fingers twitched, and Paul helpfully lit up a cigarette, passing it over to his brother. For once, Mae said nothing, although she did move upwind, standing next to her boyfriend, who sitting on a rock and fiddling with the frayed edge of his sleeve. Veronica bummed a cigarette off of Paul, shooting him a seductive wink when he lit it for her. Paul just smiled blandly, finally lighting one for himself. David and Túlio kept whispering about possible trouble, so Casper wandered over to join them, flopping down on the ground next to Marko. Out of the corner of his eye, Marko spotted a pair of figures lingering at the edge of the woods, hidden by the shadows beneath the trees. He sat up a little straighter, his eyes squinting into the darkness. A flash of yellow and white clued him in: they were vampires, the wandering kind. Not rogues, but not bound to any particular coven or gang. Slowly, more and more vampires joined the first, lining the edge of the forest like spectators at a game, and that's exactly what they were. Túlio had said something about challenges like this being popular entertainment for passing vampires, who would act as witnesses to the contest in exchange for being allowed to watch the fight. Should something go wrong, they'd be obliged to stay and report to the nearest council to tell their tale, although few ever did. He wasn't quite sure if this was reassuring or not. Casper noticed Marko's stiffness and pulled a flask from his jacket and taking a deep sip. He tapped the blonde's shoulder, offering the flask to a suspicious Marko.

"It's just blood, man…with a little whiskey." Casper grinned, his eye twitching a little. "Well, more like a _lot_ of whiskey, but still."

"It's true, babe. He always carries some with him, the crazy bastard." Mae giggled, reaching over to ruffle Casper's hair. The man batted at her hand, smiling almost dazedly. Marko shrugged, sniffed the contents, then took a deep pull from the flask. He coughed a little, but smiled brightly.

"Whoa! This stuff's good, man!" Marko passed it back to Casper, who took another drink before putting it away.

"I always raid the high-end stores for this stuff. Last time I dragged Dollar Fifty along with me and the cops almost caught us. One of them looked like this guy I knew way back when…or maybe his son…" Casper trailed off, his eyes growing distant. Mae gave him a second, waiting to see if he'd come back, before leaning over Marko to carefully stroke Casper's cheek.

"Hey, man. Wake up. It ain't sunrise yet." She murmured, her voice soft and soothing.

"I used to like the sun…" Casper whispered. "It was all bright and phosphorescent…"

"I know, kid. I know. Come on, come back to the here and now…there we go…" Mae kept talking to him, and after a few moments, Casper shook his head, as if clearing the cobwebs away.

"Thanks, sweets." Casper's smile was gentle, almost human. "Haven't trailed off that bad in a while."

"It's the stress, kid. It'll pass. Always does." Mae returned his grin, leaning back against the rock.

Marko watched the exchange with interest. He hadn't seen Mae interact with her old friends on such a personal level before; for all that she said that they were only ever using her, she sure seemed to be on good terms with at least some of them. Maybe it was just Veronica and the other vampires back in L.A. that did her wrong. Then again, Casper probably spent too much time in his head to be much of an asshole, and Dollar Fifty read like the kind of man who'd rather hug you than hurt you, if at all possible. Túlio was clearly smitten with Mae, treating her like a little princess and showering her with affection. Veronica was obviously a bitch, but even she seemed to have her good points, if Marko was reading her right. The hurt Mae felt was genuine, but at least some of her old friends seemed to see her as more than a convenience. Maybe she would see it someday too. Until then, Marko was more than happy to dissect his latest subjects, always wanting to know more. His perusal of Casper's quirks was cut short, however, by the sudden arrival of their opponents. Their audience began whispering among themselves, looking back and forth between the two gangs, some of them even placing bets. Marko stood, feeling Mae's hand slip into his own as everything went quiet. The moon was high. The time had come.

* * *

Quietly, without any fuss, the rogues appeared at the edge of the road, not too far from where the bikes were parked. For a group of violent psychopaths, they made surprisingly little noise. The Lost Boys stood in a line close to the cliffs, their backs to the water. Túlio and Casper flanked the family on their left, while Dollar Fifty and Veronica stood to their right. The rogues sauntered to stand a few feet from the boys and their girl, teeth bared in maniacal smiles, save for the blonde, who seemed to be holding back a yawn. David stepped forward, mirrored by the rogue with long black hair. The hostility in the air could be cut with a knife, with various hands on the verge of reaching for assorted hidden weapons with every second that passed. The leader of the rogues laughed, his hideously bright red jacket standing out in the moonlight.

"You know, if you just give us the girl, we'll move right along. We don't really _need_ this town. It's actually kind of a dump." The leader cackled, echoed by his subordinates.

"Not gonna happen." David sneered. "Why don't you just throw yourselves into a fire and save us all the trouble? I've got better things to do than waste my time on you idiots."

"Oh! How you wound me, man!" The leader giggled. "Guys, did you hear that? We're idiots!" The other rogues laughed, leaning against each other to keep from falling over.

"Listen, dude, you wanna fight so bad? We'll fight!" With another laugh, the rogue captain crouched down in an imitation of a boxer's stance. "How you wanna do this? One on one? All against one? Or last man standing?"

"Last man standing." David grit out, looking at the other man like he was the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. What an amateur.

"All right!" The leader crowed, stepping back in line with his gang. "We'll save your little bitch for last. We're gonna have some fun before we kill her!"

Túlio stepped forward, arms crossed, coming between the two captains. He wanted nothing more than to tear the rogue's head off, but he knew that breaking the rules now could cause trouble later. His friends needed the vampire's law on their sides if they wanted to maintain their supremacy once this was over, and with this many witnesses, he couldn't afford to let his anger get the better of him.

"Very well then. Both sides are agreed. You know the rules, cabrón. This is a fight to the death. No guns, no stakes. Everything else is legal. Anyone who breaks the rules is subject to an immediate execution by my colleagues or myself. If for some reason both sides die, one from each side will be revived to finish the fight. Am I understood?"

"Clear as crystal, chico!" The brunet guffawed, clearly enjoying his own pathetic joke.

"Perfectly." David was as cold as ice, calm and collected as he joined his brothers and sister in line.

"Stay behind me. I'll keep you safe." Dwayne whispered to Mae, protective as always.

"Focus on them, brother. I'll be okay." She whispered back, patting his shoulder before dropping into a crouch. Their opponents did the same, and the Lost prepared themselves for battle. Mae squeezed Marko's hand before letting go, reaching for her back pocket.

"Okay. Ready?" Túlio looked between both sides, his eyes momentarily resting on his sister, who ignored him in favor drawing a switchblade from her pocket, flipping it open with practiced ease. With a grin, Túlio raised his arm. "Now…FIGHT!"

* * *

Marko had been right: they were indeed young and reckless. Dwayne would have scoffed at their nonexistent tactics if he hadn't been so busy trying to keep track of them. What they lacked in strategy, they made up for with speed. The purple-haired one was the fastest, his feet barely kicking up dust as he half-flew, half-ran towards them, charging at Paul, who they'd easily picked out as the youngest. What they didn't know was that Paul was also the lightest on his feet, and he led the vampire on a merry chase around the field. Dwayne had only a second to watch them go, trading blows that barely hit, before he ducked, a roundhouse kick just missing his head.

The blonde, his eyes bright with a frightening mania, went with his momentum and spun around to try again. Dwayne caught his leg this time, shoving the blonde back as far as he could before rushing after him, trying to pin him down. The trouble would be to get the blonde still long enough to use his superior strength against them. Unfortunately for him, they were a slippery bunch, and the blonde was already on his feet by the time Dwayne reached him, laughing as he dodged Dwayne's punches.

David was locked in a struggle against the leader, hands on each other's necks in an eerie recreation of his final fight with Michael over a year ago. He had no time to think about the similarities, though; Michael had only been a half-blood, nowhere near as strong as a fully-fledged vampire. David had made the mistake of holding back then, vainly hoping that Michael would see reason. He would show no mercy this time. They tumbled onto the dirt when Paul and the purple-haired vampire collided with them, all four of them caught off-guard by the impact. The rogue captain took the opportunity to dash away from David, barreling into Dwayne as he closed in on the blonde thug.

Marko let out a roar, tackling the brunet before the rogue could reach his brother. The leader lost his balance, but Marko was too light to truly knock him down. In the brief moment it took for Marko to back away, the captain already had his bearings back, and with a savage kick to the stomach, he sent Marko flying halfway across the dirt field. David snarled and chased after him, sparing a glance to see if Marko was knocked out, or just dazed. He was dismayed to find Marko's blood on one of the large rocks, his brother passed out on the ground. He heard Paul call out Marko's name, but the vampire remained still.

"Son of a bitch!"

Paul was pulled out his shock by the screaming of the vampire he'd been fighting. He whipped around to see Mae pulling her knife out of his side, her blade covered in blood. The vampire's mesh shirt had done nothing to block the blade, and he had a nasty gash up his side. Before Paul could react, the vampire backhanded Mae, sending her tumbling backwards towards the cliffs. She came to a stop a few feet from the edge, her jacket torn up by the rocky terrain. Her hand and legs were scratched something awful, stinging with pain, but she pushed herself to her feet as quickly as she could. She looked around for Paul, seeing him tangling once again with the purple-haired vampire. Mae couldn't see her knife, so she took a second to breathe, looking for it on the dusty field. After a few moments, she spotted it not far from where Dwayne was wrestling with the rogue leader.

David had the blonde vampire by the neck, the vampire's speed no match for David's cunning. He'd lured the man close by pretending to have no idea where his enemy was, giving the blonde false confidence. It would prove to be the vampire's last mistake. David lifted him up high in the air, choking the breath the vampire didn't need from his lungs. With a loud roar, he threw the blonde onto the ground, kneeling on his chest and ripping out his throat. A horrifying gurgling noise made the fighters pause, their heads turning to see the grim spectacle unfold.

"Noaaaah!" The rogue captain screamed in horror as his brother's head was torn from his body. David lifted it by the hair, displaying it triumphantly to the crowd.

"One down, two to go!" He sneered, throwing the head over the edge of the cliffs, where it smashed against the rocks below, damaged beyond all repair.

"You'll pay for that!" The rogue hissed, his vampiric face made all the more frightening by his rage. David grinned, his arms spread in an insolent taunt.

"Paul!" Mae gasped, running towards her brother, who was caught in a headlock by the purple-haired rogue. Her brother was desperately trying to break free, but he was pinned at a terrible angle for escape. With a war cry, Dwayne came out of the shadows, swinging at the rogue with a large branch. It broke over the vampire's head, but it was enough of a distraction to let Paul wriggle free, clutching at his throat. Mae let Dwayne handle the rogue, sprinting towards her knife. It had been kicked closer to Marko, who was clutching at his head as he stumbled to his feet. She grabbed the knife, crouching down to help her boyfriend onto his feet.

"You okay?" She asked, out of breath already.

"I will be. You distract him. I'll sneak around behind him." Marko's swayed where he stood, but she trusted him to know what he was doing.

"Got it." Mae stalked towards David and the rogue, barely keeping herself from running to help Paul and Dwayne, who were once again chasing the purple-haired man down.

"Hey, asshole! Your fight's with me!" She called, grinning when she caught the rogue's attention. Her eyes went yellow, her face changing into something monstrous, her fangs pushing at her lower lip. "Come fight me like a man, you little bitch!"

Marko was almost behind the rogue, and when the leader opened his mouth to return Mae's challenge, he leapt on his back yanking his head back by his long hair. The leader screeched in pain as David dug his claws into the brunet's stomach, tearing up his flesh as his nails moved slowly upwards, digging deep gashes into the leader's skin. Blood poured out of the wounds, turning the rogue's shirt a dark red.

"Ryder!" He screamed, calling for the last of his brothers left alive.

"No one can save you now, little boy." David growled, pulling his claws back and reveling in the rogue's obvious pain. He took over for Marko, pushing the leader to his knees and pulling him into a headlock. "Keep your eyes open. See what happens to those who cross us."

"Joaquin!" A hoarse voice drew their audience's attention away from David and his captive.

Across the field, Paul and Dwayne had Ryder pinned to the ground, kneeling on one arm each as Dwayne pulled Ryder's head back by his hair, forcing the rogue vampires to look at each other. The purple-haired vampire was beaten nearly to a pulp, his face bloody and swollen, Dwayne's handiwork reducing the man to a whimpering mess. Paul was laughing quietly under his breath, patting the vampire's back almost reassuringly, getting a sick kick out of the action. Mae cleaned her knife off on her pants before closing it and slipping it back into her pocket, coming to stand beside David, a bruise forming over her left eye. Her eldest brother raised an eyebrow, and Mae nodded back, crossing her arms and watching in satisfaction as the remaining rogues realized that their fates were sealed.

"Dwayne. Paul. If you please." David's voice was a mockery of politeness, his lips spread wide in a demonic grin as his brothers swiftly and brutally dismembered Ryder, tossing first his limbs, then his head over the side of the cliffs, leaving nothing but a bloody torso behind. With a delighted grin, Paul licked the blood off his fingers as he made his way back across the field, Dwayne following behind him like a silent shadow.

"So…what do we do with this one, hm?" David purred, pulling Joaquin's head back even further, exposing his neck to four hungry vampires and one very pissed off half-blood. "Mae? What do you think? He is, after all, the one who started this all."

"…" Mae was silent for a few moments, crouching down in front of the rogue, examining his rapidly bruising face. She pulled her knife out of her pocket, flicking it open without looking away from him. The fear in his eyes was strangely soothing, and she smiled beatifically down at him as she stood up.

"Make it slow, David. Make it hurt." She licked her lips, letting a quiet laugh escape her mouth. "And use your teeth."

"As you wish, little sister." David grinned, letting his fangs descend once more.

Mae stood, about to move out of her brothers' way, but she paused, looking down at the rogue with a coldly calculating eye. In a move that both surprised and delighted her brothers, she slashed Joaquin's throat, deep enough to hurt, but nowhere close enough to his artery to give him the sweet relief of unconsciousness. No, he would suffer. He would feel every second of it. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to tear him apart herself, but she had left her mark on him all the same. With a cackle, Mae stepped back, her brothers surrounding the rogue to finish their gory work.

For centuries after, wandering vampires would whisper that you could still hear Joaquin's screaming if you stood by the cliffs at midnight, when the moon was high and the sky was clear.


	14. Let Me See You

((Hey everyone! Thanks for sticking with me! This chapter was tricky, but I think I got it. My sleep schedule's been freaking weird lately, so I've been slow with writing things. Hopefully things even out soon. If you like, come ask Mae and the Boys things on my tumblr: unchainmesister! You can send prompts too! As always, your comments are my drug. Be my supplier. Enable me. ENABLE MEEEE!))

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"As per vampire tradition, the witnesses may now claim whatever they wish from the bodies of the fallen."

Túlio had no need to raise his voice in the stunned silence following the vicious execution of Joaquin, leader of the rogue vampires. The audience that had gathered at the edge of the trees slowly moved forwards, eager to scavenge whatever they could from the remains of the rogues. Although Túlio had explained that this was a necessary part of the deal, Mae still found it utterly barbaric, but who was she to judge? She had just ordered the brutal murder of her foes, and this wasn't even close to the worst thing she'd ever done. So, with a last disgusted look at the bodies of her enemies, she followed her brothers back to their bikes, sliding onto Marko's bike first and waiting for her boyfriend get on behind her. When she caught his confused look, she raised an eyebrow, gesturing at his still-bleeding forehead.

"You're in no condition to drive this thing. Get on, babe. I've got this." She shot him a confident smile before revving the engine.

With a shrug, Marko hopped on behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist. Despite his actions to the contrary, everyone could see that Marko was exhausted. He'd sustained the most injuries and would need blood to heal. David tore off first, leading the others back towards their home. Túlio and the others had promised to burn the bodies as soon as the scavengers were done looting them, and he knew now that Mae's brother from the south was always true to his word. They were the only ones out driving this late, or early, if you wanted to be picky about such things. It was nearly two am, and while they still had plenty of time before sunrise, they were all bone tired. A quick wash and maybe a bit of a snack was all they'd be able to manage before falling asleep long before the sun rose. The ride home helped raise their spirits somewhat, the wild freedom of flying across the pavement on their bikes giving them another dose of adrenaline. They had won. Save for their mostly minor wounds, they were all in one piece. Their enemies were finally dead. Life was good.

Once they were all safely inside the house, they split up, but not before quietly touching hands or exchanging tired smiles. Friendly intimacy was nothing new to them, but the events of the night made everything feel a million times more powerful. They had come together as a unit, an unbreakable family that would not go without a fight, a fight they would win, so long as they had each other. David was proud of his brothers and sister. For the first time since Max's death, he truly felt like the king of Santa Carla. His brothers and sister had followed him and lived to tell the tale. He'd led them into war, into danger, and they had not only survived, but had made themselves a fearsome reputation while doing so. Anyone who dared to invade his territory would think twice now. Yes, he was king now. King forever.

Paul took the downstairs shower, his face bruised and his body scratched, but otherwise he was fine. A quick hunt before the night was over would solve any lingering injuries. Dwayne headed for the kitchen, snagging a beer as he waited for a bathroom to open up. Besides Marko, he had the most damage, having taken the brunt of two different attacks for his brothers and sister. Shallow gashes tore up his stomach and back, nearly ruining his jacket again. His jeans were a lost cause, and his face was covered in blood and dirt, although luckily none of the blood was his own. David had somehow managed to remain mostly pristine, his clothes torn and dirty, of course, but he had sustained no real injuries besides a few bruises here and there. It was a testament to his strength, certainly. He took the upstairs bathtub first. There were perks that came with being the leader, after all.

Mae took Marko's hand and led him upstairs, herding him towards her en suite bathroom. She closed the door to her room, locking it so Paul wouldn't pull anything (although she was sure that he would be too tired to do much more than grab a bite and fall dead asleep tonight). When she turned around, she saw Marko fiddling with the stereo, turning it on low, just loud enough for human ears to hear without straining, but still quiet enough not to disturb the whole house. Silence wasn't on the menu for the night, it seemed.

He wasn't too fond of Depeche Mode, but he wasn't in the mood to go digging around in her music collection right now. Marko felt his girlfriend's hands tug at his jacket, distracting him from his absent thoughts. She tugged off his jacket, tossing it aside. It was pretty messed up, the damage bad enough that he might have to toss it. Shit. He liked that jacket. Marko didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud until Mae sighed, picking the thing up and laying it over the back of a chair.

"I can see if I can fix it. I don't have a sewing machine, though, so I don't know how much I can do."

"It's not that important."

"It's important to you, love."

If Marko was caught off guard by the endearment, he said nothing about it. Mae didn't seem to notice that she'd done it, so he let it go, not wanting to deal with such heavy emotions at the moment. Instead, he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground as he toed out of his boots. It wasn't until he was down to his jeans that he noticed that his girlfriend hadn't moved. His eyes followed hers, looking down at his chest and stomach. He was covered in bruises, some an angry red, others a dark purple. A shallow wound slithered from his left him to his navel, the work of the jagged rocks littering the dirt field. That bastard must have thrown him harder than he thought if he'd sustained _this_ much damage. A hand on his shoulder drew his gaze back up.

Mae nudged at Marko's shoulder until he turned around, baring his back to her concerned gaze. She hissed when she saw the bruising, the marks three times as bad as the ones on Marko's front. There were some small tears here and there, but nothing too drastic. His legs probably had some contusions as well, but this was all she could bear to look at. Add to that the large wound on Marko's forehead, and the blonde looked like he'd been put through the ringer a few too many times than was good for his health. Deep down, she knew that he'd heal easily if given enough time, but this was Marko, her boyfriend. Her…something more.

"You need blood." She whispered, her fingers gently tracing the welts along his right shoulder blade.

"Yeah. I'll go get some after I…"

"No. Take some of mine." Mae interrupted him, pulling her hand back as Marko turned around.

"Run that by me again?" Marko tilted his head, studying the woman before him. Neither his face nor his voice gave any hint to what he was feeling, but Mae could read his eyes: he was confused, but also _very_ interested.

"Take some of my blood. I know you guys don't _have_ to kill the people you drink from; it's just easier that way. No one to run and tell some half-crazy hunter where you are, but I'm not a hunter, and I'm not just any human. Take some of mine. That way you don't have to go out hunting in your condition." Mae's argument was sound, but Marko still pushed at the edges of it.

"You think I'm too weak to hunt for myself? What's next, you gonna go all Florence Nightingale on me?" Marko smile was cold, and he enjoyed the flush of anger on his girlfriend's face.

"I have better things to do than to sit by your bedside and wring my hands like some stupid romance novel heroine, babe. You wanna go out? Fine. Forget I said anything." She huffed, stepping over his clothes to head for the shower.

Marko grabbed her arm, wincing a little as he heard her bite back her groan of pain. He forgot that she'd sustained some damage too, although her clothes and jacket hid most of it. She had an ugly-looking black eye forming around her right eye, and the left side of her face was scratched up something ugly. Her jacket was mostly intact, but the left arm had shredded enough to show the raw skin beneath. The jeans she'd worn were old and thin, so it was no surprise that they'd torn as she'd skidded across the dirt, letting her knees and thighs get scraped up enough to be bleeding in places. Just like Marko, her pants probably hid some more bruising, and now that he was looking, she was favoring her right shoulder over her left.

Cursing himself, Marko sighed and brought Mae close, carefully draping his arms around her shoulders. He was a selfish bastard, that was for sure, and while Mae knew what she was getting into, that didn't mean that Marko had to be a complete asshole just for the sake of it. His hand carded through her hair, a satisfied grin gracing his lips when she finally relaxed against him.

"Let's get clean first, then we'll talk about it, okay?" He murmured, swaying her gently in time with the music. Marko felt her nod against his chest, her cheek warm against his collarbone.

"Good. Now come on, I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Mae's laugh felt like a victory.

* * *

It was all quite anticlimactic, Túlio thought as he watched the bodies disintegrate into grainy ash. These three had been a thorn in their sides for months, but they had died so easily. While five against three wasn't very fair odds, the Santa Carla vampires had been the ones with the worst handicap: Mae, a half-blood who was technically under the sway of the rogues. That they didn't use this power concerned him. When there was nothing left, he helped Casper kick some ash over the embers, pulling a clove cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a casual flick of his wrist. Something was off. He'd like to think that this was all over with, but something told him that he'd be back in Santa Carla before too long.

Tonight, he and his companions would rest in Mae's house before returning to L.A. first thing in the evening. Miguel needed him back as soon as possible to help finish off the last of the upstart gang lords. He trusted his maker with his life, but Miguel was acting rather out of sorts lately. His beloved leader was telling him nothing of his plans, and Túlio had not felt so alone in a very long time. Sure, he had his family, but he and Miguel shared a bond of brotherhood so strong that it transcended mere language. They'd been companions for half a millennia, and if fate served them well, they would be together for another half a millennia to come. It wasn't love, but it was something just as strong, a trust shared between two beings so old that very few remembered the world as it was when they were young. It was lonely not being able to know what was on his friend's mind. He had no reason to be suspicious of Miguel's actions, but Túlio hated to let his leader bear a burden alone. When he returned to Los Angeles, he would confront him about his silence. Yes, he would do it the minute he got home. For now, though, all that there was left to do was collect his brothers and sister, make sure they had left nothing behind, and leave this godforsaken cliff behind.

Down below, the waves crashed against the rocks, the screech of a startled sea bird the only other sound in the cold night air.

* * *

Warmth. It was a foreign concept to the undead, save when it was in quantities so large that it couldn't be ignored. Not that they really noticed that they were cold; no, only freshly turned vampires could notice the sudden drop in body temperature. Once you had a few years behind you, it was easy to forget that your blood flow was sluggish, your heart not even bothering to beat unless you forced it to, a feat so laborious that few ever tried it. Everything felt normal, even in the blistering cold. Cold became your friend when you died that glorious half death. Cold was familiar. Cold was normal. That made warmth a rare goddess worthy of chasing after. After the advent of showers and indoor plumbing, it was a common sight to find vampires using up all the hot water in the neighborhood just to bask in that glorious heat. Marko was one such vampire, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. There was something hedonistic about standing under the hot spray and let it soothe the chill that lived within his bones. Cooling down afterwards sucked, but that just made the next shower all the sweeter.

The moment he stepped under the spray, he felt infinitely better, the water washing away the aches and pains he'd sustained during the fight. A rush of air signaled the closing of the bathroom door, and the curtain slid along the rack as his girlfriend stepped in behind him, nudging him to the side so she could get her turn under the showerhead. Marko took the opportunity to examine Mae, cataloguing her bruises and wounds with a clinical eye. Nothing looked worthy of professional medical attention, although he would probably insist on it anyway. She was purely human again, but while being a half-vampire at the time of her injuries had probably saved her from a trip to the hospital, something might have carried over once the blood had left her system. He ran his hand down her back, resting it above her tailbone. It wasn't meant to be anything more than a casual touch, but he felt the atmosphere in the room change as his girlfriend paused, her back still to him.

Slowly, he pulled her back against his chest, careful of the bruises they both wore like war paint. He could feel the extra heat where her blood pooled just under her skin, the discolorations an ugly purple in the low light of the bathroom. Marko's hands rested on her hips, the two of them standing in silence for a moment as Marko let Mae have the lion's share of the warm water for now. Her arms rose up, guiding his head down to rest on her shoulder. The stereo could be faintly heard over the drumming water, but the two of them remained quiet. They didn't need words yet. Marko's hands travelled up and down her body, absently exploring curves and planes he was quickly learning to memorize. Their first time hadn't been that long ago, but already it felt like they'd been following this dance for years now. His cock stirred, the scent of her arousal perking his interest. Mae sighed contentedly, her eyes closing as she let him do as he pleased.

When Marko's hands slid over her stomach, she couldn't help but laugh, groaning when the sudden movement pulled at her aching muscles. Her boyfriend stopped, ever perceptive, just resting his palms over her bellybutton. Another groan left her lips as she tried to stretch the pain away, shrugging her shoulders a few times to try to loosen them up. She stopped when Marko slipped away, only to turn her around and push her to lean against the far wall, her back to him still. With a frown, she did as he directed, leaning against her arms and resting her head on her hands. The bathroom had warmed up enough that she wasn't cold, despite no longer being under the direct spray of the showerhead. She moaned quietly when Marko began massaging her shoulders, loosening the tension with a practiced ease. She bit her lip, smiling at his thoughtfulness. When everything was as relaxed as it was going to be, he tapped her hip, grinning when she turned to lean her back against the wall, smiling up at him dazedly.

"Damn. I didn't know I was _that_ good, babe."

"Don't let it get to your head, baby. I just had a really shit night, and you'll do for now."

Their words might sound pointed, but they knew it was just a game. If they had really wanted to hurt each other, they could easily do so while never once resorting to violence. Trust was something neither of them gave often, but so far, this was turning out to be a worthwhile investment of that precious commodity. Marko took Mae's hand and pulled her against his chest, gasping quietly when she pressed against his cock. He licked his lips, pulling her into a deep, searing kiss. Their hands couldn't stay still, sliding over slick skin, never resting in one place for more than a second. He swallowed her sigh like fresh blood after days of starvation, his answering moan pouring down her throat in waves of liquid gold. Somewhere out there were their brothers, their guests, and the rest of the goddamn world, but here, in this moment, it was only them. Marko let himself go, devouring the moment with a hungry desire, the faint hint of Mae's own need brushing across the back of his mind.

Marko nearly groaned when Mae pulled back, gasping for air. Soon enough, the need for breath would be nonexistent, and he would hold her mouth tight against his for as long as he wanted. Until then, he settled for kissing down her neck, his tongue licking over her artery before moving to her collarbone, leaving a small, shallow bite on her skin. There, a mark that was wanted, not forced. There. She was his once more. Marko grinned when he felt Mae's hand tighten in his hair, tugging him up for yet another kiss, their bodies pressing together gracelessly in her haste. She silenced his laugh with her tongue, smacking at his side, barely missing a nasty bruise. He growled in response, pushing her against the cool wall. Her shivers went unnoticed by both of them as they fumbled like awkward teenagers, hands colliding and blocking each other in their hurry to get a deeper form of sensation. When her hand closed around the head of his cock, Marko moaned quietly, breaking the kiss and burying his face in her neck. His fingers teased her clit, his touch skilled but rushed.

"Fuck…!" Mae gasped, wincing when her head fell back and hit the tile wall.

Marko slid his hand under it, cushioning her as they started a clumsy rhythm, too worked up to care about technique or even making it last. They were both too bruised and shaken up to do it properly, orgasm the only thing on their minds. A soft whimpering drew Marko out of his pleasure-filled haze, and he managed to open his eyes in time to see Mae squeeze her eyes shut, her wet hair clinging to her face as she came, her muscles fluttering under his fingertips. He watched enraptured as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, her face contorting as she tried to keep quiet, her hand stilling on his cock as she fell into bliss.

It should have been weird, ugly even. She looked nothing like the porn stars Paul sometimes watched, and half the girls he'd fucked he didn't even bother to look at when they came, too busy getting ready to bite into their throats to pay attention to their expressions. Despite looking like she was being hurt, she still looked beautiful. Maybe it was the flush of pride that he'd done this to her that made Marko keep his eyes on her. Maybe it was something else. He had no time to analyze it; Mae's eyes fluttered open, and she sighed in contentment as she resumed her movements, trying to bring him over the edge as well.

"Come for me, baby…" She whispered, voice low, nearly lost in the steady drumming of the shower.

Marko bit his lip, closing his eyes again as he savored the sensations, absently noting how inexpert at this she was. She wasn't too rough, but it was obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. The thought of being able to teach her, to take away what was left of her innocence and make her the perfect lover made him shiver in delight. He pictured her lying beneath him, sweaty and warm, her chest heaving for air. Her lips were parted, her voice mewling as he whispered filthy things to her, cataloguing what delighted her and what made her shy away from him. Marko forced his eyes open as he reached the edge, watching her watching him as he fell over the edge, his cum painting her hand and her hip. It took all of his willpower to keep from sinking his teeth into her neck, his hips rocking into her hand as she held still, unsure whether she should keep stroking him through it or leave things be. He preferred to be carried through his entire peak, but that was a talk for another day. Their lips mashed together, both of them loose and spent. The kiss was short-lived; Mae was still panting for breath, and Marko was tired of the water beating down on his bruised back.

"…Did I do all right?" Mae murmured so quietly that even Marko had trouble hearing her. She almost curled in on herself, but bravely stood tall in the face of her insecurity slipping through. Marko grinned.

"You were good, babe. Very good." He rewarded her with a soft kiss, nuzzling into her cheek. "I'll show you how I like it later. And you?"

"Mmmm. Very good." She laughed, shedding her unease once she knew he wasn't judging her. "But now I'm even more exhausted, and I think you're bleeding again."

With a frown, Marko slipped his hand into his hairline, the skin coming back red. He groaned, rolling his eyes before glaring down at his girlfriend when she giggled at him. In response, she stuck her tongue out, shrieking with laughter when he poked at her stomach for revenge. The air was lighter now, the two of them swatting at each other playfully as the finally washed up, carefully avoiding the dark marks littering their bodies. It didn't take long for them to clean up, and soon enough the water was off and they stood outside the shower, toweling themselves off sluggishly. Mae yawned, tossing her towel on the rack without bothering to see if it stayed there. Marko snorted and did the same, taking advantage of his usually fastidious girlfriend's lack of attention. It was a sign of how tired she was that Mae didn't bother to scold him. For a moment, they stood together in the foggy bathroom, Mae's body the only reflection in the old mirror. She leaned against him and studied herself, seeming to rest against thin air.

"The won't be up for another hour or so, but that's not enough time to get to town and back. I dunno if there'll be any hobos on the beach this time of year. It's awfully cold out there." She said to the mirror, feeling Marko's hand idly stroking her hip.

"We're back to that then, huh?" If she closed her eyes, Mae could pretend that Marko's voice was coming from nowhere and everywhere.

"Yup." She popped the 'p' sound, grinning when it drew a chuckle out of her boyfriend.

"Do you really think you're up to that, babe? You got knocked up pretty badly for a mortal."

"I wasn't a mortal at the time."

"But you are now. You really oughta see a doctor tomorrow."

"Can't. It's obvious that I can't even go out in daylight anymore. I'll ask Dollar Fifty. He slummed it in med school for a while back in the 70's. If it's something bad, I'll go to the hospital when the sun sets." Mae shrugged, wincing at the pain it caused. "Shit. I need to stop doing that."

"You're not making a hell of an argument here, babe." Marko laughed, but let it go. She was a grown woman, and she knew her body better than he did, after all. He was actually rather surprised at how much he was fussing over her. She probably only had a bunch of bruising, just like she said. It didn't stop him from worrying, though. Huh.

"Whatever. The point is, a little fresh blood will help you heal. If shit happens in the next few days, all of you need to be at your best. Paul probably went with Dwayne while he hunted, so I'm not worried about him. You, though…you took a shitload of damage, babe." Mae turned around, raising her eyebrow at him and pointedly moving her hair away from her neck.

"Hey! It wasn't that bad."

Silence.

"Oh, fuck you."

"You just did. Now hurry up and take some blood. It's starting to get cold, and unlike you, I can still get sick."

"You know that's an old wives' tale, right?"

"Marko…"

"All right, all right!"

The vampire in question leaned back against the nearest wall, pulling Mae with him. He wrapped an arm around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. His other hand came up to brush her hair away from her neck, the skin flushed from the heat of the shower. Gently, he pressed a kiss right over her artery, the smell of the blood flowing just under the surface turning his eyes acid yellow. His fangs slid down, his face contorting as he trailed his teeth over her neck just to feel her shiver in anticipation. He absently noted that she seemed to know what would happen, and he wondered how often her friends down in L.A. had fed from her. Given her lack of fear, probably often enough that she was used to it. Still, he was careful, pausing before he sank his fangs into her neck, giving Mae a chance to back out. When she held still, he pierced her skin with a quick, efficient bite, taking care to do as little damage as possible.

Her choked gasp was music to his ears. Marko felt her blood pour over his tongue, the hot liquid scratching the itch he'd been ignoring since they'd returned home. Normally, he'd let himself fall into the act of feeding with abandon, but that was when he had no intention of letting his victim live. This was Mae, though, so he kept his head on straight, taking precisely four solid mouthfuls before pulling back, licking over the wounds to seal them tight. When he pulled back, he was treated to the sight of a slightly dazed, but very much aroused Mae, her lips flushed red where she'd bitten them to keep herself quiet. An impish smile crossed his face, his mind already thinking of all the ways he could take advantage of her obvious enjoyment of the act.

"You look like the cat that got the cream, baby." Mae snickered, burying her face in his neck, a deep yawn wracking her body.

"It wasn't exactly cream, sweetheart." Marko tested the pet name on his tongue, but it wasn't quite what he wanted. With a mental shrug, he decided he'd think of something better later. "Come on, don't fall asleep on me now. We still gotta get some clothes on before we join the others."

"Clothes are overrated." Mae grumbled, still refusing to move.

"I agree, but I think I'd rather keep your tits to myself, if you know what I mean." He leered, licking his lips with an exaggerated smacking sound. It earned him a laugh and a playful shove, which was exactly what he wanted.

The two of them stumbled out of the bathroom, snagging something that could pass for pajamas from Mae's closet. A few of Marko's things had already migrated there, which was lucky for him, since the rest of his clothes were still in the room he shared with the others. _That_ would be one hell of a walk of shame. Feet bare despite the cold, they leaned on each other as they ambled their way down the hall, dropping unceremoniously on the pile of covers and blankets that was the communal bed, their arms still wrapped around each other. Mae vaguely registered that she had kicked Paul on the shin on her way down, but the second her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

If any human could sleep like the dead, it was Mae Clayton.

* * *

"The remnants, as you requested, Mother."

The sound of a bowl on a granite countertop.

"Thank you, my dear. You can leave us now."

The sound of fabric rustling.

"Of course. Good night, Mother."

The dull thud of a door against wood.

"Oh, my poor, sweet boys. Mummy is so proud of you."

The click of heels on a cracked marble floor.

"You did well, my sons. You bought me time at such a great cost. Your sacrifices will not go unrewarded, I promise you."

The slide of steel against flesh.

"Drink up, my dears. It's time to wake up. Your siblings are all waiting for you. We can't be tardy, now can we?"

The sickening sound of blood dripping onto hollow wood…and something else.

"If there's one thing motherhood teaches you, my darlings, it is patience. Patience is a virtue, my sons."

The sense of dread as wicked eyes find their target.

"Oh, I know. But to be fair, it's the only one I have left."


	15. Mommy Dearest

((Hey everyone! Sorry this is so late...and so short. Hopefully this answers some lingering questions you might have, while giving you EVEN MORE QUESTIONS! Muahahaha! The next chapter will have some excitement, thrills, and r-rated fun, I promise! As always, comments feed my dirty old soul! Please enjoy! Visit me at unchainmesister on tumblr!))

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Sunset found the various members of Mae's family lounging haphazardly across the living room, the Los Angeles contingent waiting for the sky to darken completely before heading home. Veronica was flipping through a magazine, pointedly ignoring the rather inane debate Dollar Fifty and Paul were having about which psychedelic band was the best taking place at her feet. The two men were taking up most of the carpet, the coffee table having been shoved against the wall to accommodate Dollar Fifty's impressive bulk. David leaned against the wall, his right hand dangling out of the open window as he and Dwayne passed a cigarette back and forth. Túlio was spread out on the couch, sipping a beer as he watched Marko try to salvage the few clean patches left on his jacket.

That left Mae and Casper, who had been rifling through the kitchen to find something to eat. They came up empty, so the two wandered back into the living room, the drone of the TV and muted conversations a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere of the previous day. Mae was about to flop down onto an armchair when she noticed Casper lingering by the wall full of portraits under the stairs. It was apparently a Clayton family tradition to line that particular wall with pictures of every new addition to the family, and after a few generations, the whole thing was nearly full. Casper was staring at a very familiar portrait, so Mae sighed and made her way over to see just how much he'd figured out.

"…The girl in the pink dress…who is she?" Casper's voice was deep but quiet, a subtle sign that he was completely lucid for once. Mae sighed again, crossing her arms and staring at the large picture.

"My mother."

The pronouncement caught the attention of everyone in the room, every conversation and activity pausing as cautious looks passed between them all. No one in that room was unaware of the significance of Mae's admission: she rarely talked about the woman who'd abandoned her, even to Túlio, who probably knew the most about her out of all of them. Bravely ignoring the eyes boring into her back, Mae traced her finger over the faces in the family photo.

"That's my great-grandmother, Regina Clayton. She was the matriarch of the family, but she died before I was born." She traced across the solemn frown of an old, stern woman dressed in rich, yet understated clothes. Below Regina were three middle-aged women, two of whom were obviously twins, their matching smiles and soft eyes giving them away. The third was a shy, mousy woman who seemed small compared to the other women in the picture. In the center was a man who appeared to be the eldest child, his hair streaked with grey and laugh lines prematurely aging his skin.

"Those are her children. Christopher was the firstborn. He's my grandfather. My grandmother Dominique is in another picture, that one, there." Mae indicated a small photo with Christopher and a blonde woman in a wedding dress nearby.

"The twins are my aunts, Claudette and Sophie. They married well and moved to the East coast. I've never met them or their children. The other one is my Aunt Lydia. She never married, so she was given this house by my great-grandmother to secure her future." Mae knew she was putting off the inevitable, so with a deep breath, she at last came to the final figure in the portrait.

"And this…this is my mother, Coraline Clayton. Everyone called her Cora, or so my aunt says." A sweet-faced little girl stared back at her, her hair pin-straight, just like Mae's. They had the same features and build, down to their round faces and shrewd eyes. Mae was a nearly perfect copy of her mother, save for her hair and skin. Mae was a touch fairer than her mother, and her hair was significantly darker. Those small differences aside, they could easily be mistaken for twins.

"…She must have been very young when you were born." Casper murmured, tracing his fingertips around the frame of another picture. This one was of a teenaged girl, dressed in the fashions of the early 60's, her eyes sparkling with life and light.

"According to my aunt, she was 20 at the time." Mae fought to keep her voice steady. "Don't let the preppy look fool you. She was far from perfect."

"Aren't all mothers?" Casper countered, tilting his head and studying his friend.

"Casper…" Túlio warned, setting his drink down.

"…It's okay, Viejo. Let him ask." Mae whispered, closing her eyes for a moment, gathering herself. They all would find out someday. It might as well be today.

"Open the wound." Casper murmured, still watching Mae. A moment of silence passed, then Mae spoke.

"My grandparents lived in San Francisco. Christopher was a successful businessman. I don't remember what, I think it was real estate. They all lived comfortably, and Mom had everything she could ever want in life. So, of course, she fell in with the wrong crowd. At first, it was just parties. All the rich kids did it, so why shouldn't she? It started with alcohol, then weed, then coke, then LSD. It was the 60's, and everyone was on an acid trip. She got hooked. Somehow, she made it through high school without causing a fuss, but when she started college, she went on a binge so bad that she ended up getting arrested. My grandparents sent her off to some kind of religious rehab thing in the mountains, but she escaped the day she got there. Lydia always said my mom was clever, and she wasn't wrong about that."

"How do you know all this?" Paul frowned, sitting up from the floor.

"Aunt Lydia wrote down everything she knew about my mom before the dementia started taking her. There's a notebook in the library, with a red and gold cover. She wrote down everything she thought I'd want to know about my family. The poor thing. She thought she was helping. In another life, maybe it would." Mae's laugh was hollow. No one commented on it, and she continued undisturbed.

"No one's quite sure where Mom went. One of her friends saw her in Berkeley one afternoon, but she couldn't catch up with her. She went missing for a few months before coming home, strung out and dragging some deadbeat asshole with her. Ma said they were married, but it was some weird pseudo-religious ceremony done in the mountains that no one remembered to document, so my grandparents sent the guy packing. Mom was given an ultimatum: come home and get off the drugs, or leave and never come back." Mae's voice sped up, something her newest brothers were learning wasn't just a Los Angeles thing; it was a sign that Mae was getting upset, and fast.

"So Mom left. She just…left. They were offering her a second chance, a chance she didn't even fucking deserve, the stupid bitch, and she just left! And you know what the worst part was? She was fucking pregnant! With me! Goddamnit, I could've been born in a nice house with nice things, and maybe I wouldn't be so fucking messed up, but noooo!" Mae snarled, hissing at her mother's picture.

"The drugs were more important to you. You're fucking lucky I wasn't one of those fucking crack babies, Mom! I don't know who the hell you shacked up with when you were fucking incubating me, but thank god they kept you off the powder!"

"She was sober while she was pregnant with you?" Casper's question was oddly quiet after Mae's violent snarling.

"Yeah. The doctors wrote on my medical record that I was surprisingly healthy, so she must've been off the stuff for most of her pregnancy." Mae's look could melt ice. "Thanks, Mom. At least I'm not brain-dead."

"Is this your father?" Casper pointed at a small, crumpled photo of a man stuck into the frame of Coraline's picture.

"Casper!" Túlio hissed.

"It's fine, Viejo." Mae groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know. No one knows. Lydia thinks he was one of Mom's boyfriends around when I would've been conceived. She'd left it at my grandparent's house at some point." She paused, staring at the nondescript photo of a brown-haired man in a dress shirt and tie.

"He doesn't look a thing like me, but I take so much after Mom that it's probably impossible to tell one way or another. He could just be some guy from a picture frame. He could be my dad. I'll never know. No one will." Mae's rage was simmering beneath a veneer of calm.

"You get one more question, Casper. One more, and then I'm done digging up ghosts who aren't even dead yet." Mae's tone brooked no argument.

"…Your mother…do you want to find her?" Casper leaned against the wall, his blue eyes bright in the evening shadows. "I can find her for you."

Mae was silent for an uncomfortably long time. Her gaze was locked on the picture of her mother as a little girl, standing with her aunts and grandmother. There stood the Clayton family: tall and proud, wealthy and perfect, a good family with a perfect record clean of scandal. The family she never knew, and never would. She let her finger trace over her mother's round face, her sweet smile. When she spoke, her voice was cold and cruel.

"Let her rot. You know what she did to me, Casper dear?" She hissed. "The moment she was fit to go, she snatched a vial of morphine and left the hospital. I was still in the fucking nursery, barely a few days old. It took the nurses half a day to realize that she was gone. She just…left me there, alone, with no explanation why. No note. No letter to her family. Nothing. All I had was a birth certificate with the name 'Maeve Elizabeth Clayton' and a blank under the word 'Father'. That was it. And since they'd disowned her, my grandparents disowned me. They could've taken me in. They had the money for a nanny, for a cradle and some clothes. Something. Anything. But I was the bastard child of a disgraced daughter, and I wasn't good enough for them. They couldn't make my mother pay for her crimes against them, so they punished me instead. I didn't do a fucking thing to them, and they left me in that fucking hospital to die for all they cared. No one wanted me, no one except Lydia, bless her poor, dead soul, and she couldn't do a goddamn thing for me."

"So no, Casper. I don't want you to find her. As far as I'm concerned, she's as dead as everyone else in this house, and twice as damned."

* * *

"A few weeks at the most, Mother. We'll just have to keep them well-fed and warm until they decide to wake up."

"Excellent. Would you be so kind as to get us something to eat, my dear?"

"Of course, Mother."

* * *

The night sky was black velvet dotted with white crystals, the new moon dark and demure. It was the kind of sky a vampire desired when they wanted to travel by flight. Mae stood in her living room, her arms wrapped around her oldest brother as he held her in return. Túlio pretended not to notice the faint trembling of his sister as he stroked her hair, whispering secret things to her in Spanish. She wasn't very fluent, but she knew enough to understand the soft promises of protection and loyalty he pressed into her skin. Her friends were standing on the lawn, ready to head home. Her brothers sat or stood on the porch, giving their sister her moment of privacy. It was hard to share, but in this one special case, they'd share. Just this once.

 _"Be careful, old man."_ Mae kissed Túlio's cheek, then his forehead. It was the closest thing to a blessing a vampire could receive, and it was the way they always parted. _"I'll miss you. Don't be a stranger."_ Her Spanish was clumsy and heavily accented, but she'd memorized the words well enough to not completely butcher them.

 _"Be safe, little girl."_ Túlio smiled softly, kissing her forehead in return. _"Trust your family. They'll always be by your side."_ In the past, he meant himself and his brothers when he spoke of family. Now, he meant the four men standing outside, the ones he now knew were willing to die for his little sister, and she for them. A brief spark of jealousy always passed through him at the thought, but he pushed it aside. Mae seemed to have that effect on vampires, no matter where she went.

 _"Always. Now get going, old man. Say hello to everyone for me."_ Mae grinned, hugging him one more time before letting go.

 _"Of course, little girl. Of course."_ Túlio followed her outside, nodding to the Lost Boys, the new kings of Santa Carla. His eyes flashed yellow, a final warning to stay in line around his sister that he knew they understood. Marko slipped his arm around Mae's shoulders, drawing her against him while Paul laughed and rested his chin on top of Mae's head, earning him a groan of annoyance.

Without a sound, the Los Angeles vampires rose as one into the air, waving at their hosts before disappearing into the night, as silent as death himself. They were out of sight in moments, passing beyond even the vision of vampires faster than one would think possible. The Lost remained on the porch for another few moments in silence, just soaking in the starlight. The aura of peace was quickly broken by Paul, who ruffled Mae's hair and poked at her side.

"So, what's for dinner, sis?"

"Oh, fuck off!"

* * *

Several Days Later

December 14, 1988

"So lemme get this straight: I'm older than you guys?" Mae's eyebrows couldn't get any higher, and honestly, Paul was getting worried that she'd pull something if she kept this up.

"Yeah." Marko shrugged, flipping through a stolen mechanic's catalogue.

"Physically, at least." Dwayne added, looking up from his book.

"Wait, then how old _are_ you guys? Physically, I mean." She sat down with a large whumpf, the old cushion underneath her doing little to support her sudden weight.

"David's 19. I'm 18." Dwayne set the book aside, finding Mae's growing confusion to be way more amusing than another read-through of 'Murder on the Orient Express'.

"I _was_ 17." Marko made sure to emphasize the 'was'.

"And I'm 20. I _used_ to be the oldest. Now I guess that's you, man!" Paul cackled, falling off his chair as he erupted in a giggling fit. He couldn't stop himself, even after Mae threw something at him.

"Oh holy fuck. Am I a cradle robber?" Mae went white, looking at her boyfriend, who just gave her the most unimpressed stare ever produced by man or woman.

"Mae, I am over twice your age. We're good, seriously. If anything, I'm robbing your cradle." He winked, licking his lips and clicking his teeth. Mae threw something at him too.

David, who had been steadfastly ignoring everything like the aloof king he was born to be, barely held back a groan. He couldn't believe that he was in charge of children. Actual fucking children. With a mighty roll of his eyes, he finally made his way out of the kitchen, where he'd been searching for a beer with little success. He pushed open the kitchen window and snagged one of Paul's blunts, lighting it without looking. The first soothing wave could not come fast enough. Screw Mae's asthma, he needed a hit.

Tomorrow was Mae's 22nd birthday, and if this is what it would take to get him through the night, she could shut her fucking trap.


	16. Night Walking

((Hey batties! It took me ages to do this chapter, surprisingly, and it went through a few different rewrites. Don't worry, all the cool stuff that I edited out will feature in a later chapter. For now, enjoy a lighthearted chapter (sort of) before we get down to business in the next chapter! I promise it'll be worth the wait! As always, comments are my motivation, so please leave me a note! Also, come and visit my tumblr: unchainmesister!))

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For the first time in ages, Mae had finally slept through the night in her own bed. It had been a lonely, but necessary experience; she needed to prove to herself that she was safe again, and that she didn't need her brothers and lover constantly by her side to protect her anymore. It was about independence, and when her eyes had opened to the midday sun, she had barely kept in a loud roar of excitement. The terror would linger for a while, of course, but this was a start. She had spent the waning daylight hours getting ready for the night, deciding to leave her stall on the boardwalk empty for one more day. Her sales had been good lately, and she could afford the time off, quite literally. After all, today was a special occasion:

Tonight was her 22nd birthday.

She had treated herself to a long shower, not bothering to worry if it would leave any hot water for the boys later. They could deal with a cold shower today of all days. In fact, if any of them gave her shit, they'd be in for such a reckoning that they'd wish they'd never met her. Mae felt invincible. It was a foolish notion, one that could get her killed in any other situation, but birthdays in your 20's were a time to forget that you were a mere mortal. She had survived a literal fight for her life, for fuck's sake! Every goddamn worry she'd ever had could piss off.

By the time the boys had piled out of their room, still groggy from sleep, Mae was dressed to kill. With a last look in the mirror, she shut off the lights in her room and made her way downstairs, feeling the eyes of her brothers, but especially her boyfriend, staring at her. Her usual uniform of nice but practical clothing had been left lying on the floor; tonight, she wanted to be the envy of every woman on the pier. Dark leather pants were all but painted onto her legs, a studded belt uselessly threaded through the belt loops. A 'Bat Out of Hell' t-shirt, cut low to show off her breasts, was partially hidden beneath a black military jacket that looked like something stolen from Adam Ant's closet. Her boots were a gothic affair, high-heeled and covered in buckles. She'd painted her lips velvet-red, her eyes lined in black. A stud was set in her right ear, a dangling silver skull hung from her left, mimicking her brothers' style. She'd left her hair simple, hanging down her back with a bare minimum of a tease. In short, she looked like a true Lost Boy.

David looked her up and down, a dark gleam in his eyes as he grinned. Mae was nothing like Star, in appearance and attitude. In retrospect, there'd been nothing wrong with Star, per se; his anger towards the girl had faded into sheer disdain long ago. Yes, she'd betrayed him, but before that, he'd already seen the signs that this life wasn't what she wanted or needed. Mae, though…she fit in like she'd been here the whole time. Good. David had plans to finally turn her a few weeks from now, when he was finally sure that the coast was clear. He didn't doubt her loyalty, or her desire to be one of them, but they'd need the special gifts humanity gave her if someone decided to pull another stupid stunt like the rogues did. He wouldn't wait too long, though. Mae was right: she was older than them now, physically, and if they held off the change, she'd look too old to be hanging out with them. That would spark questions he'd rather not have to deal with. You can't kill everyone…sadly.

"So…what would you little maniacs like to do first?" Mae purred, leaning against the railing. Paul cackled, swooping over to pick her up and spin her around, breaking her aura of sex-on-legs. Ugh. Brothers. "Damnit! Put me down!"

"It's your party, kid! We're down for just about anything." Paul laughed as he finally set her down, giggling at her now-disheveled look.

"I will fucking set all of your hairspray on fire, Paul. I'm not fucking joking!" She huffed, shoving him to the side as she fixed her hair in the mirror by the door.

"Okay, kids. Calm down." Dwayne picked Paul up by the collar and dragged him out of the way. "Where do you want to go? The pier? Into town? The beach?"

"I was thinking the pier, first. I wanna eat something extremely unhealthy. Then I'll grab some burgers, you grab some people, and we can eat on the sand. Sound good?" After she was finally satisfied with her appearance, Mae turned around, raising an eyebrow at her brothers. "We can have a Surf Nazi barbecue. What do you say?"

"Babe, you have the best ideas." Marko grinned.

* * *

They looked like they owned the place, and if you had the right connections, you'd know that they did, in fact, own the place. David was in the center, as always, a half-pace in front of everyone else. He was the king, crowned with blood and the fangs of his enemies. Dwayne was on his right, the hand of the king, if you wanted to get pretentious about it. He loomed above everyone they passed, even if he wasn't actually taller than them, guarding his brethren and frightening the mortals with his mere presence. Paul wove his way through the crowd on the outer edge, his grin equal parts wicked and childish. Some would label him the court jester, but he was so much more than just a joker. It's why he'd lived this long. Mae was on David's left, in a place of honor since it was her birthday. Despite being a mortal, she was the only one who truly dared to question the king, and when she didn't push too far, he found it refreshing enough to allow her the freedom. Marko had a possessive arm around her waist, even while throwing flirtatious glances at anyone he deemed worthy of his attentions. Underneath his angelic face, he was planning the gory demise of each and every person they passed. He was a true general, constantly scheming like it was his job. Maybe it was.

Those who weren't drunk enough to be oblivious to everything short of a nuclear war gave them a wide berth when they could, but the boardwalk was so packed that it was nearly impossible to keep away from them. With an unhurried gait, they patrolled the pier, stopping now and then at whatever booth had caught their interest. Mouths were filled with sugar instead of blood as they masqueraded as common mortals. Mae insisted on buying everything, even though it was her birthday, and the boys let her. Treating others to nice things without worrying about the cost was something she'd always wanted to do, and up until now, she'd had neither the funds nor the friends to do such a thing with.

By the time they'd reached the end of the boardwalk, everyone had something unhealthy either in their bellies or in their hands. Mae leaned into Marko, licking the sugar off her fingers as she watched the moon reflect off the waves. Paul was slurping noisily on some soda, leaning heavily on the railing, while David was finishing off some popcorn. The others had finished their food and drink, but were content to wait on Paul and David. This far up the pier, the music and screams of the rollercoaster riders weren't so loud, giving the area an aura of false peace. A few couples were making out near the lampposts or on the benches. Some families were wrapping up their little ones in thick coats for the trek back to the car, and there was an old man sleeping next to a trashcan, his clothes ratty and stuffed with newspapers. David observed his kingdom with pleasure, breathing in the scent of exhilaration and freedom that masked the underlying stench of fear and despair. Perfection.

Without looking, he tossed the empty popcorn bag into the nearest dumpster, absentmindedly brushing the salt from his gloves. Paul had a cigarette dangling from his lips now, passing it over to Dwayne every now and then so the taller man could take a hit. Mae was murmuring back and forth with Marko, trading observations about the couples that thought they were being discreet about their heavy petting. After a moment of taking in the air, David began walking back towards the rest of the boardwalk. He didn't need to wait for the others; they all followed just a half step behind him, not even breaking their conversations to catch up to their leader. They worked like a well-oiled machine, independent parts of a unified whole.

Mae slipped her arm through his, leaning on him as they wove their way through the midwinter crowds. When Christmas finally came, more people would brave the winter chill to have some fun, but for now, there was a relative lull in the tourist trade. It meant their resident saleswoman wasn't missing out on too much money during all the shit that had been going down. David let her hang onto him, raising an eyebrow at Marko, who just shrugged. Maybe someday the two would finally get over themselves and get their clingy phase over with, but it seemed like that day was a long way off. As long as he didn't have to deal with a jealous Marko (which was never a good thing), David was content to leave things be.

* * *

They ended up walking along the beach, the boardwalk getting further and further behind them as they made their way across the empty sands. The bonfires that usually littered the shore were absent, since most of the Surf Nazis were either away seeking warmer climates or were cloistered inside their shitty houses this time of night. It put a bit of a damper on their plans, but David was confident that they'd find somebody out and about tonight. Paul was singing quietly, probably something from Def Leppard, but he went quiet all of a sudden, causing the others to halt. With a frown, David broke away from Mae, moving next to his youngest brother with a question on the tip of his tongue. Paul held up his hand, tilting his head as he listened. A wicked grin spread across his face, and without a word to the others, he darted off into the night, a shrill cackle the only sign that he was still nearby. Within seconds, he was back, dragging a few bodies behind him. They were half-naked, an amorous couple that had the unfortunate fate of being caught out at the wrong time. Their necks were snapped for ease of transport. David groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"You couldn't've just said something, Paul? I don't wanna see their junk, man." Dwayne whacked his brother upside the head, ignoring Paul's giggling.

"What? I'm hungry!" Paul shrugged and quite literally tore into the man, tossing the woman at his brothers. After another rather intense glare at Paul, Dwayne grabbed the woman's neck, looking at Marko and David, seeing if they wanted any.

"Nah, man. All yours. I like 'em living." Marko snickered. David just waved his hand, letting his lieutenant do as he pleased.

Mae had wandered a little further down the shore, ignoring the bickering going on behind her. She had taken off her shoes and socks, sitting them on top of a nearby rock. Her footwear out of the way, she waded into the water, not caring that the bottoms of her pants were getting wet. The water was icy cold, contrary to what most people thought the water would be like in California. She stood in the waves up to her thighs, watching the moon while the soft breeze messed with her hair. In a few minutes, the chill would catch up with her, but for now, it was all strangely soothing. She'd survived the first round, but the war was far from over. Deep down, her brothers probably knew it too. They'd be stupid to think so. She hoped that when the time came, they'd forgive her for bringing this war down on them. If she hadn't been here, they'd have lived their lives in peace, or as close to it as vampires got. The melancholy wrapped around her like a dark fog, distracting her so absolutely that she didn't notice the four bodies wading into the water next to her. She was startled out of her reverie by Paul's voice, strangely soft in the quiet night air.

"Whatcha lookin' at, sis?"

"Nothing much."

"Kind of a shitty place to be lookin' at nothin', girlie." He teased, but a look of understanding passed between the two.

"…It isn't over, you know." She murmured to no one in particular, knowing that they'd hear her over the waves.

"We know." Dwayne replied, nudging her shoulder with his elbow.

"The Widow will always be waiting for us to fuck up." David took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a deep pull. For once, Mae said nothing, even when the smoke washed over her face.

"We'll just have to make the first move, then." Marko sneered. "Fuck that bitch."

"Eloquent as always, babe." Mae laughed, although it quickly devolved into chattering teeth as the shivers took over her body. Her feet were probably tinged blue by now.

"Only for you." Her boyfriend threw her a wink.

They stood in the water for a little bit longer, until Mae finally headed back towards her shoes, whatever peace she'd found in the water overtaken by the cold seeping into her veins. She couldn't wait for the day that cold would no longer bother her. She liked being cool, but freezing? Nah. The others followed behind her, Dwayne giving her a lift as they flew back towards their bikes, the hour late enough that no one would be outside to see them. They drove back home, spending the last few hours of the night lounging around the house, drinking and smoking and eating anything and everything in the pantry as the record player blasted whatever Paul had scrounged up from the secret room. By the time the sun rose, all five of them had collapsed in the boys' room, dead asleep with limbs tangled inextricably together.

Maybe it wasn't the most eventful birthday ever, but it was more than enough. It was the first birthday she'd ever spent among family, and as close as she was to Túlio, there was nobody quite like her brothers. Mae was finally at peace with her place in the world.

Too bad it all went to hell on New Year's Eve.


	17. Cold-Hearted Snake

((Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. Hopefully you'll find that this chapter was worth the wait! Send me a comment and tell me what you think. They feed my dark soul, and I want to know if I've pissed you off or made your day! See you next chapter, where thing will be explained...or will they? Follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr!))

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 _December 31, 1988_

 _The Clayton Residence_

"So, we've been on edge, for, like, ever, right?" Mae's voice broke through the early evening silence, the springs of the old couch creaking as she inelegantly flopped over the back and onto Dwayne's lap.

"Like, totally." Dwayne deadpanned, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. "You're such a fucking valley girl, Mae."

"Shut it, Mama's talking." Mae brushed the playful jab off, sticking her nose up in the air with an overdone, haughty sniff. "Seriously, though, it's been kinda shitty lately. I made a fuckton of money over the Christmas season, so why don't we do something fun, hm?"

"Like what?" Her brother finally got her settled in his lap, her tailbone no longer digging into his thigh. Dwayne stoically ignored David's snickers when Mae began absentmindedly braiding a few locks of his hair.

"I heard there's a party down at this old abandoned warehouse by the cliffs at midnight. It's one of those underground parties, super secret, invitation only. The chick that runs the coffee stand knows a guy who dates the girl who is also dating the guy who's putting the show on. Supposedly they've got some unknown punk band playing for cheap, but I think she said something about have a DJ there too in case the punks end up too high to play." Mae's words ran together with excitement, and by the time she was done, Dwayne had a tight braid hanging down from his temple, the end tied with a copper bead. There was a skull etched into it, the slightly wobbly lines the only sign that it was done by an amateur.

"There. What do you think?" Mae asked quietly once Dwayne had examined his new accessory.

"Awesome." Her brother grinned, ruffling her hair in thanks.

"Ah, fuck! You really need to think of something else to do when you're happy, man. I'm gonna spend my whole life detangling my hair at this rate!" Mae grumbled, but her smile ruined the effect.

"You like it." Dwayne winked, ducking when Mae tried to knock him upside the head. His sister groaned and stood up, moving over to David, who was sitting in his usual chair, watching the proceedings with no small amount of amusement.

It was true that they'd been under a dark fog as of late. The search for the Widow's lair had been fruitless so far, but to be fair, none of them had been trying too hard. After their fight with the rogues, they'd all wanted nothing more than to move on and leave everything in the past, but they weren't that stupid. Someday the Widow might make a move. By the laws of their kind, putting Paul under a spell while in the territory of his maker gave David the right to throw her out of his city, but that would mean finding her first. Studying all the rules of vampire society had been an arduous task, but it gave David a good deal of ammunition to put behind his goal of securing his little kingdom. Once the Widow was either dead or gone, he could finally feel safe within the invisible walls of Santa Carla, and so would his family.

Word had come recently from the Los Angeles vampires that the riots had finally calmed down as the last of the rebel gangs had been destroyed. Túlio had promised to come visit his sister after New Year's Eve, alone this time. It had been strange to have the phone passed over to him and to hear the much older vampire ask David's permission to enter his territory. He'd given it, of course, but it was still strange. Being the king wasn't all just posturing and destroying his enemies; it was politics, something David had avoided so far in both of his lives. Ugh. Still, if he had to choose between this and being truly dead, he'd take politics any day.

David's eyebrow rose when Mae perched herself on the armrest of his chair, rummaging around in the various pockets of her overalls for something. After a few moments of digging, Mae finally found what she was looking for in the pocket on her chest. With a little flourish, she presented the trinket in her palm to David: a copper chain necklace, the links delicate yet strong, with a skull pendant dangling from the end. The skull was adorned with a crown of thorns, a rose sprouting from its screaming jaws. She gave him a moment to look it over before undoing the clasp and fitting the chain around David's neck, the pendant hanging right at the dip of his clavicle. Her eldest brother picked up the pendant to look it over once more, his eyebrow rising again.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Nothing special. New Year's, if you wanna attach it to something. I tried to have these all finished by Christmas, but I hadn't gotten the etchings right on Dwayne's, so I didn't think it was fair to give you guys your presents and leave him in the lurch, so I bought the bedframes instead." When the boys woke up on Christmas Eve, they'd found several boxes from the furniture store stacked up in the living room, evidence of Mae's recent good fortune with the tourist trade. Their room now had a bunk bed and two twin beds set up to her brothers' distinct tastes.

"…Thank you, Mae." David murmured, giving Mae one of his rare genuine, unguarded smiles. The beds had been a practical gift, one that the boys all appreciated, but this was something much more meaningful. David's smile was gone almost as soon as it came, but Mae had seen it, and that was enough. With a smile of her own, she winked at him and hopped off the armrest, heading upstairs to find Paul.

"We'll leave for the party at midnight." He called up, ignoring Dwayne's soft smile as he continued to examine his new accessory.

"Sure thing, boss!" Mae yelled down, heading into the secret room.

* * *

Paul was sprawled across his bed, his eyes closed as he listened to Strawberry Alarm Clock. When he heard Mae enter the room, he scooted closer to the wall to let her lie down next to him on the lower bunk bed. For several moments, they listened to the band sing about incense and peppermints, the psychedelic beats creating a sense of nostalgia in the blonde. Mae had only just been born when the song was released, whereas Paul was only a year away from becoming a vampire. When the record finally played out, Mae took Paul's hand and slid something onto his finger. Paul's eyes finally opened as he held his hand up, grinning when he saw the smiling skull ring on his index finger, the copper shining in the lamplight.

"Far out." He laughed, rolling over and resting his head on his elbow. "Where'd you find this?"

"I've had it with me for a few years, but it never felt right to sell it. I think it was always meant for you, my man." Mae returned his grin, leaning over to press a kiss to Paul's forehead. "We're all going to a party at midnight. You gonna stay up here, or are you gonna go get some takeout first?"

"Nah. I think I'll stay here, listen to some old records. I've been missing the sixties lately."

"Sounds like some wild times, man." Mae stood up, stretching her back before meandering over to the door.

"They were. Maybe I'll tell you the story someday." Paul's face was unusually serious. The drugs really _had_ addled his brain, making him forget bits and pieces of his past life before he drank David's blood. What little he had left, he had yet to truly entrust to anyone. He wanted to change that before he lost it all.

"Whenever you're ready, bro. Humans make excellent listeners." Mae's smile was soft as she echoed their conversation from months ago.

"Humans should be careful." Paul's face lit up, his cheerful nature quickly returning.

"Humans are overrated." Mae laughed, walking out the door, Paul's own cackling following her down the hall to her room.

* * *

On Christmas Day, after leaving the others alone to set up their new beds, Mae had quietly taken Marko's hand and drawn him aside. When they were alone in her room, Mae had taken a deep breath, fidgeting with her hands as she struggled to get the words out. Marko, sensing that this was something serious, had keep his peace for once, letting Mae work things out herself. After a few more nervous seconds, Mae had finally worked up the courage to spit it out.

"I want you to move in with me."

A quiet pause had followed while Marko had worked through what she said. Technically, he already lived with her. They all did. So what did she mean? Mae had noticed his hesitation, appreciating that he wasn't just answering her with a joke or a jab at her clumsy words. So she pointed at her windows, which were now covered with the thickest blackout curtains she could find, the fabric nailed into the walls so that not a single ray of light could get through. There was also a wad of fabric lying next to her door that she could stuff in the little space between the bottom of the door and the floor, effectively sealing out any light that could sneak in. Marko understood what she meant then.

"Are you sure?"

His voice was quiet, giving the moment all the solemnity it deserved. Mae was a private person, even to this day, after spending several months with her new family. Even now, only Marko was allowed in and out of her room without having to ask for permission. Paul could use the shower when the other one was occupied, but he had to check with Mae first. Dwayne, the closest thing she had to a blood brother, still had to ask to come inside, and David usually just talked to her through the door. Mae needed her own space, which was understandable, and she had chosen to share it with him. Now, though…now she was asking him to become a _part_ of her space, to be there at all times if he wanted to, to see her at her best and worst. It was a sign of trust, one Marko wasn't sure he knew what to do with.

"I am. I…I lo-…" Mae choked on the word, still afraid to say it after the heartbreak she'd suffered at Veronica's hands. She wasn't sure Marko would accept it, either. Instead, she simply kissed him, sighing softly when he returned the kiss with a gentle fervor.

"Which side of the bed is mine?" He'd asked when they'd parted, and Mae had tugged him back to the bed to show him. And if they'd ended up rather naked during the tour? Well, she hadn't exactly been unhappy about the situation.

It was still a thrill to see Marko lounging on her bed, his clothes rumpled from sleep, hair in disarray. She lay down next to him, nudging the auto magazine out of his hands, replacing it with the final trinket of the night. Marko let out a small grumble when his reading material was snatched from him, but he let it pass in favor of admiring his present: a copper skull ear cuff, the kind that didn't need a piercing. The skull was decorated with little red crystals in the eyes, two smaller red crystals shaped like teardrops resting on its cheekbones. He'd seen Mae slip downstairs earlier while he was still waking up, but he hadn't bothered to wonder why she'd been digging through her underwear drawer when she was clearly already dressed. Mystery solved, then.

"Thanks, babe." He grinned, slipping the cuff onto his left ear, the two skull earrings complimenting each other. "Why copper, though?"

"It's malleable, easy to shape and fix." Mae shrugged, tracing the shell of his ear with her forefinger. "It looks good on you. I was hoping you'd like it."

"I'd like pretty much anything you'd give me, babe." Marko murmured, leaning over to reward her with a kiss. "Did I hear something about a party?"

"Yeah. Midnight, down by the cliffs at the old warehouses. You coming?"

"Course I am. Wouldn't miss it."

"Wear something nice. Maybe we can pick somebody up…" Mae purred, kissing down his neck.

"I like the way you think, baby." Marko grinned, pinning his girlfriend down on the bed, slipping his hips between her thighs. They had a few hours until the party. The night was young, and so were they.

And if Mae was oddly quiet, well, Marko was too caught up in pleasure to notice.

* * *

 _Midnight_

 _January 1, 1989_

At midnight, they left the house behind them in a cloud of dust, their bikes tearing through the night. They passed through the city, swerving around drunken college kids and half-asleep locals as they enjoyed their last day of winter vacation. The beach was filled with bonfires as the partiers braved the chilly air to celebrate with copious amounts of drugs, booze, and shitty music. The warehouse on the cliffs was just a few miles away from the pier, in a dilapidated and mostly abandoned industrial district that used to house canneries and welding companies.

Their destination was a cannery at the end of an empty street, the steady thrum of an overpowered bass guiding them like a lightless beacon. A few motorcycles and a handful of cars were parked outside, a few people in punk gear loitering outside with cigarettes dangling from their lips. The Lost Boys left their bikes across the street, walking in shoulder-to-shoulder, comfortable in their position as the deadliest gang in the city.

They entered with no problems, the bouncer at the door waving them through when Mae flashed him a smile, shouting the name of the chick from the coffee stand over the pounding music. The DJ must be doing their set, since Paula Abdul was blaring over the speakers, and not the punk music the boys were expecting. Oh, well. Everyone on the dance floor seemed either high or drunk, which meant easy pickings when they finally wanted a snack. Paul could see a group of frat boys passing around a joint in the corner, and Dwayne spotted what appeared to be the makeshift bar near what used to be the packing machines. An eclectic mix of guests slithered around the building, moving with a strange grace for people who should be blasted out of their minds already. David frowned, a faint sense of unease growing in the back of his mind.

The center of the room was given over to a large haphazard stage, the DJ booth sitting directly under a large catwalk that was shrouded in darkness. There were people dancing on the catwalks, too, but David ignored them in favor of finding the source of his worry. The gang stuck together, loitering at the edge of the dance floor, taking in the spectacle around them. None of them seemed to have noticed their leaders sudden change in mood, although Mae had shuffled off to the side a little bit, watching a sorority girl climb on top of a bunch of boxes to dance, much to the delight of her friends. It all seemed normal, like your average underground party, so what were his instincts trying to tell him.

Just as Paul was about to wander off to find some drugs, the doors of the warehouse slammed shut, a large bar slamming down, locking it tight. David whirled around, searching for an exit, but they were all blocked. An ocean of yellow eyes stared back at him; every single person in that room was a vampire or a half-blood. The music screeched to a halt, the lights flickering in and out, disorienting the boys. In the few seconds it took for them to regain their senses, a large, ornate chair had been placed on the stage, occupied by a very familiar lone woman. With an almost bored gesture, she signaled to the vampires on the catwalks, and the lights steadied once again, bathing the room in a dim glow.

"Welcome, my dears. We've been expecting you." Her voice was a long drawl, a disconcerting mix of elegantly unimpressed and viciously mocking. "It's good to see you looking so well."

At least twenty vampires broke from the crowd, pulling guns from their belts and back pockets, aiming them squarely at the boys. One sidled up behind Mae, nudging her with the end of his gun, pushing her forward. When Marko and Dwayne tried to rescue her, the vampires cocked the hammers on their firearms, stopping them dead in their tracks.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my dears. Those guns are loaded with bullets blessed with holy water. They won't kill you, but they'll hurt for much longer than you think." The Widow grinned, her pearly teeth flashing beneath her painted lips. Once Mae stood at the foot of the stage, the Widow waved her hand, dismissing the guard that had escorted her there.

"Congratulations, my darling. You've done so well." She cooed, leaning down to caress Mae's cheek.

"Thank you, Mother." Mae's voice was cold, and when the Widow sat back in her chair, Mae turned around to face the boys, her expression blank. She clasped her hands behind her back, standing straight and still, the picture of a soldier standing at parade rest.

In the stunned, sickening silence that followed, the Widow raised her wicked eyes to David's, a victorious smile stretching her blood red lips. She reveled in the looks of fear and betrayal etched onto the Lost Boys' faces. Their dumbfounded stares were deliciously sweet.

"Oh? Didn't she tell you?" The Widow laughed.

"Mae's been working for me this whole time."


	18. Ignorance Is Kind

((Hey guys! I'm sorry this took so long, but I got SUPER sick and I've only JUST started feeling like a human being again. I hope this chapter satisfies your lingering questions! We're nearing the end of this story, but don't worry! I already have a sequel planned out, as well as little one-shots for the time between. There's still a few chapters left, though, so please stick with me! As always, comments make my soul recover from illness faster. Follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr!))

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 _"Thank you, Mother." Mae's voice was cold, and when the Widow sat back in her chair, Mae turned around to face the boys, her expression blank. She clasped her hands behind her back, standing straight and still, the picture of a soldier standing at parade rest._

 _In the stunned, sickening silence that followed, the Widow raised her wicked eyes to David's, a victorious smile stretching her blood red lips. She reveled in the looks of fear and betrayal etched onto the Lost Boys' faces. Their dumbfounded stares were deliciously sweet._

 _"Oh? Didn't she tell you?" The Widow laughed._

 _"Mae's been working for me this whole time."_

* * *

"…Mae?"

Paul's voice was a quiet rasp across the intense silence of the warehouse. Despite the softness of the sound, it scraped across the ears of all present as loud as knives across a chalkboard. For a brief moment, all hung still…before The Widow broke out in the most disturbing fit of laughter the boys had ever seen. She clutched at her stomach while the vampires surrounding her allowed themselves quiet cackles of glee.

"Oh, heavens above! I knew you boys were naïve, but I never took you for idiots! Oh, what fun!" The Widow screeched, wiping daintily at her eyes with a handkerchief. Silence reigned for a brief moment before realization dawned in the Lost's eyes.

"You made Mae your thrall…!" Paul's voice shook with horror. "You made her lead us here!" Beside him, Marko bared his teeth in fury.

Dwayne placed a hand on Marko's shoulder, preemptively holding him back. For all that Marko was perhaps the most cunning of them all, when it came to his loved ones, he could show moments of intense recklessness. Best to let David take the lead.

For his part, David snarled, his flexing fingers itching to rip out some throats, but he held back for the sake of his brothers.

"Mae, darling, would you be so kind as to take the gun from Charlie over there?" The Widow gestured at one of the guards.

Mae's steps would have been smooth to anyone not paying close attention, but her brothers saw the slight hitch, as if she had something in her shoe. Her face remained blank as she took the pistol from one of the male guards standing in front of Dwayne.

"Good girl. Now…point it at your brother."

Mae lifted the gun and pointed it dead between Dwayne's eyes.

"Excellent. Would you release the safety, please?"

Mae did so, her movements stiff but precise. Dwayne stared down at her with a mix of disbelief and utter heartbreak, but he said nothing.

"Oh, this bores me. Mae, darling, point it at your head and pull the trigger."

Mae immediately placed the gun to her temple. Just as she was about the shoot herself, The Widow's voice rang out.

"Stop!"

Mae froze, and The Widow grinned. "We still need you alive, little one. Give the gun back to Charlie and come here." The guard, Charlie, took his pistol back from Mae, who wove her way through the crowd before climbing up onto the stage, standing next to The Widow Johnson.

"Good girl. You see, boys, I've had Mae under my thrall ever since that little incident with that disgusting drug dealer. I didn't want her dead, just far enough away from you that I could sink my teeth into her brain without you noticing." The Widow purred, petting Mae's arm. Mae had started trembling almost imperceptibly, but the old vampire felt it. "Oh, dear, don't fight it. You'll only make it worse for yourself."

"…What the fuck do you want from us, Johnson?" David growled, eyes flicking back and forth between The Widow and Mae.

"From you? Not much, really. You're just here to make sure that my dear little girl stays put. You see, even though she's firmly under my control, she's still fighting it. If she fights too hard, she could damage herself quite severely, and I need her alive for my own purposes. That's where you come in."

The Widow snapped her fingers, and three figures that had been lurking behind the massive sound system stepped forward, revealing three faces that David had never thought he'd see again: all three of the Rogues, alive and well. The only remnant of their battle was a change of hair color for Ryder, whose purple locks had reverted back to their natural black. Marko hissed through his teeth, and David barely held back a growl.

"I see you've met my sons before." The Widow laughed, as if she'd made a hilarious joke. "I was their creator, so it was easy enough to have someone bring me a piece of their remains before your friends could burn them. With my blood being as powerful as it is, it was barely any time at all before they were back on my feet. You really should be more thorough, my dears." An immaculately shaped eyebrow rose as The Widow tilted her head towards Joaquin.

"Joaquin, my dear, please bring me the chalice, will you, darling?" She purred. The man in question nodded before moving back behind the sound system, the sound of rustling reaching the ears of those with hearing sharp enough to catch it. When he reappeared, he was carrying a golden cup, a slight patina darkening the gold coloring. He passed it to his maker, grinning down at David and his brothers as he slid back into place behind The Widow.

"Mae, you look thirsty. Here, have a drink." Oxblood-colored nails clacked against the metal as the cup was passed to Mae, whose hands shook as she brought the rim up to her lips, but refused to drink.

"I said… _drink_ , Mae." The Widow growled, and Mae was overwhelmed by the mesmer, finally taking a large swallow of whatever was inside the cup. She drank it all, her body shaking so hard that she dropped the chalice once it was empty, only to clutch at her throat and gag.

"Now, now, my dear, calm yourself. It was only blood…" The Widow sighed.

"What the fuck did you do to her!?" David snarled, but he already knew the answer.

"Simple, my dear. I'm doing what you never had the nerve to do: I'm making her the vampire she's always wanted to be." The Widow chuckled, snapping her fingers once again. Mae crumpled into a heap, her head making a sickening crunch against the wood of the stage. The Widow's laugh turned downright nasty when she saw Mae's brothers make aborted attempts to rush to their sister's aid, only to be stopped by a veritable forest of pistol barrels.

"She's only asleep, little boys. Come, let us retire somewhere more comfortable. I'm sure you thought that this little gathering was just for you, but you would be wrong. Tomorrow is the _real_ party. Charlie, escort our guests down below and see that they're comfortable. We must be charitable hosts, after all." The guard bowed his head in acknowledgement before herding David and his brothers towards a stairwell in the back corner of the warehouse.

"Ryder, gather up your newest sister. Gently, if you please. We need her in good condition."

* * *

An hour later found David and his brothers locked inside an old storeroom, with an ancient dangling Edison bulb that looked fit to short out at any second as their only light source. David and Paul sat on some boxes stacked against the wall furthest from the door, while Dwayne and Marko sat on the floor, leaning against opposite walls. Across the hallway, they could faintly hear Mae's breathing as she remained unconscious; none of them were sure whether it was the mesmer that was keeping her under, or if it was the nasty fall. Not knowing if their sister was injured weighed heavily on them all, especially Dwayne and Marko. Two guards were chatting idly outside their makeshift prison, while several more were lingering by the stairs smoking cigarettes to pass the time. Not wanting to risk being overheard, David closed his eyes and focused his mind, reaching out to his brothers telepathically. It wasn't difficult for vampires who shared blood to communicate this way, but they were all on edge, which could ruin their concentration and project their inner voices to the minds of those around them. So long as David kept his mind clear, he could protect his brothers from making a fatal mistake. Surprisingly, Paul was the first to pick up on his intentions, tilting his head to look at his eldest brother.

 _"…So…what's the plan, David?"_ His mind's voice was tremulous, the fear he was bravely trying to hide on the outside as plain as day in David's head. _"There…There is a plan, right?"_

 _"…We wait, Paul. It's all we can do for now."_ David didn't like that this was his only answer, but it was all he had. Attempting to escape would only result in their permanent deaths. _"I don't like it any more than you do, but something big is gonna happen tomorrow. Maybe we can grab Mae and make a run for it while whatever in the fuck it is starts."_

Paul looked like he wanted to say more, to maybe scream at the injustice of it all, or to maybe ask for reassurance, but he said nothing. He leaned back against an old box, the creak of the cardboard fading into nothingness as he stared at the wall. The guards shifted outside their door, the old ones being replaced by a less chatty pair. A truck passed by outside, an early morning delivery to one of the restaurants by the pier, maybe. Too many maybes, not enough answers.

Dwayne was staring at the bead still braided into his hair, the skull's empty eye sockets glaring back at him. He'd been contemplating it ever since they'd been shoved in this cell, gazing at it like the little thing held the answer to a question he'd forgotten to ask. Suddenly, the pieces slotted into place, and his eyes slid closed, anguish and self-contempt rolling off of him in nearly palpable waves. All three of his brothers immediately turned to him, fearing some hidden injury. When David prodded at his mind, Dwayne held the bead up in answer, taking a deep, unneeded breath before opening his eyes and casting his silent words out towards his brothers.

 _"She was saying goodbye."_

"…What?" Marko's mental voice was hoarse, as if he'd only been allowing himself to scream in his head.

 _"Our gifts. She was saying goodbye, Marko."_ Dwayne closed his eyes again, letting his braid fall back against his chest. _"She knew this was coming. She knew this was going to happen all along. The Widow never hid it from her mind."_

 _"That night, out on the beach. She said a war was coming."_ Marko murmured. _"She was trying to warn us."_

All was silent as the brothers searched through their minds, recalling times when Mae was acting abnormal, or was unusually clingy, or even just cryptic. The instances were few and far between, but they had been there. The Widow's mesmer must have been strong if Mae had only been able to break through it those few times…or worse, Mae had been told to say those things, just to fuck with her brothers' minds once the trick was revealed. Marko's hands slid into his hair, tugging at the blonde curls. David tensed, wondering if his brother had finally reached the end of his control. He couldn't say that he'd blame him if he had; Mae was important to all of them, but Marko was her boyfriend, and even if they didn't want to admit it out loud, everyone knew that they were in love.

 _"…I should have seen it! We were together all the time. I know her. I should have seen the signs!"_ Marko whispered, baring his fangs. _"Out of all of us, I should have known."_

 _"Don't put that kind of blame on yourself, Marko."_ David's voice was stern, but sympathetic. As the leader, it really should have fallen to David to see through the shadows in Mae's mind and find the mesmer. Hell, he was surprised that Túlio hadn't sensed it, but if The Widow was a powerful as she seemed to be, no one could have found it until she wanted them to. _"What we need to focus on now is getting some rest. We won't be any good to anyone tomorrow night if we're exhausted. I'll stay up until the sun rises. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. That's an order."_

The power of David's command sank into his brothers' skin, tugging at their eyelids and dragging them down into a dreamless sleep. Marko sneered at him, but David could see the gratitude in his eyes. Without the command, David was sure that his brothers' sleep would be restless at best. Paul, as usual, was the first to pass out, his body propped up by the boxes beneath him. Dwayne moved closer to David and Paul, leaning against his brother's legs before going still. Only Marko saw the hand that ran through Dwayne's dark locks, the touch meant to reassure David more than Dwayne. Smart man that he was, Marko said nothing, choosing instead to make his way over to the informal sleeping pile as quietly as he could. He sat on the floor between Paul and David's legs, curling himself up as tightly as possible, his arms around his legs and his forehead resting on his knees. The last thing he felt before the world went dark was David's hand on his shoulder, anchoring him as he drifted off.

For the rest of the night, until the irresistible call of the sun rising above the horizon drew him down into slumber, David watched over his brothers, the sound of the labored breathing of his sister gnawing at the edge of his mind.


	19. Oh Sinnerman

_((Hey everyone! As usual, sorry for the delay, but I hope it was worth it! We're nearing the end here...who will survive? Who will fall? Who will rise to power and who will lose everything? Only time will tell! Thank you for all of your comments, they keep me going! Please send more! Tell me your theories! And yes, the sequel is still on! Any guesses as to who the villain will be? Send me a message and follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr!))_

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They woke to the sound of screaming.

Instantly, all four men were standing at the door, teeth bared and eyes acid yellow, ready for a fight…but none came. The screams were coming from a single person far above them on the main floor of the warehouse, the terrifying sound cut off by a horrible gurgling as the screamer drowned in their own blood. A final snap echoed through the building, and then there was silence. The four brothers traded frightened and confused looks, stepping back further into the shadows of their storeroom prison, taking a small comfort in the fact that the screams were those of a man, and not their sister. Whoever it was had met a gruesome end, though, which did not bode well for them. The jangling of keys brought their attention back to the door as a guard unlocked the chains binding the storeroom shut. When the door opened, they were met by over a dozen guards, each with their gun drawn and aimed at the hearts and heads of the Lost Boys.

"Mother requests your presence upstairs with utmost haste." One of the guards sneered, looking far too young to be saying such antiquated words. With a nod from David, the four brothers made their way upstairs, surrounded by their escorts. The sight that met them would have been horrific to the uninitiated, but for a vampire, it was simply dinner.

Six bodies were strewn across the concrete, their throats torn out with savage brutality. What the killer lacked in finesse, they made up for with sheer strength: each broken neck had been nearly torn off, the collarbones clearly broken, the shoulders disturbingly dislocated. The stage from the night before was gone, replaced by a large chair on a small dais built from reclaimed wood. The Widow Johnson sat on her throne, watching dispassionately as her minions began to clear away the bodies. Various underlings stood or sat on the detritus lying around the perimeter, many of them smelling of new blood. David analyzed it all, figuring that The Widow had made herself an army in recent weeks, preparing for some kind of takeover, but why? If she'd wanted David and his family dead, they would be by now. No, she wanted something more. Something that only Mae could get her. And with that thought, he finally let his gaze linger on the form crouched in the middle of the spreading pool of blood dripping from the six victims, sorrow and anger flowing through his vein at the sight.

Mae stood with inhuman grace, her eyes a sickening yellow ringed with red, fangs sliding over her lips. She was drenched in blood, the sticky red ichor cascading down her chin and throat, staining her shirt and jacket. Her hands were red too, her nails long and wickedly sharp, and her hair was matted with dried gore. When her eyes met David's, there was no emotion in her gaze, nothing to show that she was still in there, buried beneath The Widow's mesmer. David had never seen someone be turned while under the spell of their sire; maybe it meant nothing, but he had the sinking suspicion that Mae was lost to them.

"Ah! Gentlemen! Welcome, welcome! You're just in time. Come, stand over here where I can see you." The Widow waved them over, a wicked grin on her face as the guards prodded the Lost Boys closer to the throne. When they were arranged to her liking, standing in a line to her left, The Widow turned to the Rogues, who were on her right. "Joaquin, fetch your sister for me. She's a little dazed, I'm afraid."

With a small bow, Joaquin broke away from his brothers, slowly approaching Mae, who had yet to move from her spot. She was idly licking the blood from her fingers, her eyes staring vacantly at the entrance to the warehouse. When Joaquin was at her shoulder, she let her hand fall back to her side, swaying a little. The Rogue gently took her by the elbow and guided her back to the throne, placing her at The Widow's right hand. The Widow smiled up at her latest creation, looking her over like a horse trader would examine his latest purchase. Then she beckoned to Noah, who nodded and placed a hooded cloak over Mae's shoulder, shrouding her face from view.

"Excellent. She should resurface sooner or later. Charlie? Have our guests arrived?" She directed her question at the guard by the door, who nodded in response.

"Yes, Mother. They should be here in a moment."

"Good."

David risked a glance at his brothers, reaching out with his mind, trying to establish a link without The Widow noticing that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. She wouldn't be able to hear their thoughts, but she could keep him distracted long enough that the connection would waver and fade.

 _"Dwayne? Marko? Paul?"_

 _"We're here, brother."_ Dwayne replied, his eyes never leaving the warehouse doors. He could sense the tension in The Widow's underlings, all of whom seemed to be carrying some kind of weapon.

 _"Ride or die, David."_ Paul's fists were clenched, his body trembling with nervous energy. He looked ready to run, his emotions too obvious for David's liking.

 _"Ease up, Paul. A fucking blind man could see you're ready to bolt."_ David hissed.

 _"Sorry, man."_

 _"We're with you, David."_ Marko seemed to be watching the doors like Dwayne, but David could see him sneak glances at Mae, whose profile was mostly obscured by her filthy hair.

 _"…Guys, if things go south…"_ David began, only to be interrupted by Dwayne.

 _"I'm not leaving, David."_

 _"Me either."_ Paul growled, his lips twitching into a frown.

 _"We're family."_ Marko, who stood the farthest from David, risked a glance at his eldest brother. _"Like Paul said: ride or die."_

 _"And what about Mae?"_ David questioned, directing his words at Marko.

 _"…It's what she'd want too."_

 _"All right, then."_ David focused his attention on the doors, which were slowly sliding open. _"If things go south, we fight or die. Together."_

The warehouse went silent. The Widow's guests had arrived.

* * *

Miguel, High Lord of the Council of Los Angeles, Leader of the Echo Park Coven, stood at the head of a company of fifty vampires, all silhouetted by the stark white moonlight pouring into the warehouse. To call him tall, dark, and handsome was an understatement; his presence was one of unquestionable aristocracy, a remnant of the courts of the Old World before the settlement of the Americas. He was everything Max had always thought he was, but could never manage to be. By his side stood Túlio, his outfit unusually somber, his eyes dark with an indescribable rage. Surrounding them was the inner circle: Casper, Dollar Fifty, and Veronica, dressed to the nines and giving off an air of ethereal nobility. Behind them stood members of the Echo Park coven, who, despite their mismatched styles, looked like a far more cohesive army than The Widow's underlings ever could. As one, they strode across the warehouse floor, the doors closing ominously behind them. When the doors clanged shut, Miguel and his inner circle stepped forward, the sire of the Echo Park coven smiling blandly down at the seated Widow.

"Rosamund."

"Miguel. How delightful." The Widow's sweet tone was ruined by her barely-restrained sneer. "I'm so glad you could make the trip up."

"You went to so much trouble to invite me here that I simply had to come see what foolishness you'd come up with this time, my dear." Miguel shrugged, leaning on a cane that looked straight out of a 1930's movie set.

"I have something of yours, Miguel. Something precious. If you want it back, it will cost you…" The Widow grinned.

"Let me guess: the throne of Los Angeles, hm?" Miguel sighed.

"Indeed. Don't be so hasty to dismiss me, my old friend. I've caught quite a prize this time."

"It must truly be something, if you've gone to all the trouble of inviting me here and giving me time to gather both my forces and my allies together. You've never allowed us to meet face to face before. I still have the jacket your assassin ruined with his clumsy attempt at a staking seven hundred years ago."

Miguel talked about his near-death experience as if it were a common occurrence. Perhaps it was. David liked this man less and less with every word that came out of his mouth. There was something… _wrong_ about him, something that set his nerves alight with the instinct to kill.

"Carlyle? That oaf? He wasn't worth half of what I paid for him." The Widow sighed. "You were always one to keep trophies, weren't you? Father never quite rid of that. Such material attachments are a sign of pride, my brother."

 _"Brother?"_ Marko's voice whispered in David's head, and the eldest barely held in a hiss.

 _"Keep quiet!"_ David growled. Luckily for Marko, his question found its way to another mouth.

"Brother?" Túlio turned to his maker, shock evident on his face. "You never said she was your sister."

"It was never important." Miguel brushed Túlio's question off, but The Widow was happy to answer for him.

"Oh? He never told you, little Túlio? Of course he wouldn't, he thinks everyone but himself is an absolute idiot." She laughed, folding her hands together gleefully. "We're among the last remaining children of Dracula, the First Vampire, who left us to wander the earth alone. A pity, he was barely hanging on to sanity at the end." She sighed wistfully, remembering a time no one else in the room had ever seen.

"These four idiots to my left are Max's children, remember him, brother dear? He was just as conceited as you are, and look what happened to him. Stabbed to death by a car, of all things! Oh, I was laughing for days on end when I heard that!" The Widow giggled, while Miguel simply watched, unmoved.

"Yes, yes, Max was an idiot. Can we please just get to the point, Rosamund? I have a plane to catch." Miguel raised an eyebrow, and just like that, The Widow's cold and cruel demeanor settled back into a mask of eerie calmness.

"As you wish, brother dear. Like I said, I have something of yours. Something precious. Joaquin?" The Widow tilted her head, and with a flourish, Joaquin pulled Mae's hood back, revealing her to the Los Angeles vampires. Several members of the coven gasped in horror, including Túlio and Casper. Veronica and Miguel were strangely silent.

"Mae!" Túlio's cry echoed through the warehouse, and it was only Miguel's hand on his shoulder that kept him from running to his sister.

"Easy now, Túlio." Miguel murmured, the hint of command in his voice forcing Túlio to freeze in place. Túlio gaped at his maker, unable to speak or do more than stare at him in confusion.

"Just what are you doing, Rosamund?" Miguel frowned.

"It's a simple trade, Miguel: her life for your throne. She's one of your favored ones, after all." The Widow licked her lips, beckoning to Mae. "Mae, darling, who do you serve?"

"Mother!" Mae's voice was gravelly and raw, the sticky blood clinging to the inside of her throat making her sound demonic.

"But we can change that, Miguel. I'll release her from my service in exchange for your throne. No one needs to die. Ignore my offer, and I'll have her stake herself right here and now…after tearing out her own throat, of course. I do so enjoy dramatics." The Widow's crazed grin reeked of triumph.

In David's eyes, she truly held all the cards. He braced himself, ready for whatever theatrics The Widow was about to pull now that she had what she wanted. The blonde watched as Miguel seemed to consider his options before glancing at Túlio, whose eyes begged his sire to take the deal. Maybe things would end without a fight.

"Kill her."

David was fucking tired of being wrong.

* * *

For over half a millennia, Túlio had loyally served his maker. He'd pulled Túlio from a life of obscurity and endless toil in the scorching fields of an uncaring noble's farm. His family was long separated to the wind, his brothers either fighting in distant wars or scattered across the country working as laborers. The death of his mother and father was so long ago that he barely remembered them, nor did he recall anything about his sisters, some dead in childhood, some dead from childbirth, save for their laughter as they ran home after church on Sundays. He'd seemed destined to live and die on this hellish plot of land, serving a man who cared nothing for him or his fellow peasants…until Miguel had ridden over the distant hills, resplendent in silks only a man of immense wealth and taste could afford. Túlio had never quite understood what Miguel had seen in him, but it had been enough for the man to beckon the lowly farmer away from the fields and into the life of the undead.

Leaving the Old World behind had been an adventure, one that Túlio remembered fondly, even to this day, despite its hazards. They'd travelled together for over 100 years by then, and Túlio had never once regretted his decision to give up a life in the sun. His sire was at once enigmatic and charismatic, finding eager followers and loyal friends wherever he went. Miguel never told Túlio much about his past, not that Túlio really cared; Miguel treated him well, generously sharing his gold and immense knowledge with the formerly illiterate man. They settled in what would become Venezuela for several decades before traveling into the Californias, where they would remain until the little upstart colonies on the eastern coast began their revolution. From then on, they wandered across the northern continent, watching the humans settle the last of the wild lands, killing and maiming in the name of manifest destiny. Túlio remained ever by Miguel's side throughout the centuries, loyal and unquestioning. His sire had given him freedom, and he could do no less than give Miguel his service in return, and in 500 years, that trust had never once been betrayed.

Until now.

He had done terrible things in the name of his maker: murder, stealing, bearing false witness, anything Miguel had asked of him. The one person he loved in this world as much as he loved his sire was Mae, his sister, closer than any of his own flesh and blood had ever been. Miguel knew how much she meant to him, how much it had killed him to leave her defenseless here in Santa Carla while they fought the uprising in Los Angeles. Miguel knew. Miguel knew!

So, for the first time in his long life, Túlio defied his creator.

"You…what!?" He snarled, forcing the words through his lips, tearing at the hold of his maker's command.

"Kill her, Rosamund. She means nothing to me. She's a mortal." Miguel shrugged, raising an eyebrow at his second-in-command. "Enough, Túlio. Why all this fuss? She's a mortal, or was. Is the throne really worth one useless woman?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Túlio could see David struggling to control his brothers, even though the leader of the Lost Boys looked close to breaking into a dangerous rage himself. Good. He'd need allies if he meant to defy his master. He focused as hard as he could, making sure that David was watching him as he forced his hand to twitch, his copper skull bracelet flashing in the dim lighting. Túlio could only hope that David saw the movement.

"She…is…my sister!" Túlio snarled.

"And I'm the Lord of Los Angeles. I've worked too hard to build my kingdom to lose it over one fledgling. You can get another mortal pet, Túlio. You've done it before."

"Those were my friends! They chose a mortal life, and I accepted it, but Mae is one of us! She always has been! You named her to your inner circle!"

"I only said that so she could enter the house whenever she pleased, instead of having you bother me every time she wanted to come over. Really, Túlio, we don't have time for this." Miguel waved a hand, trying to reassert his power over his underling. "Do with her as you please, Rosamund. I tire of this game. Next time, try something a little less dramatic. There is nothing I would trade for the throne, and you know this. You're the same, after all."

The Widow seethed, standing from her seat, rage turning her eyes a sickly yellow. "You're not leaving until you either abdicate or your body turns to ash, Miguel! I will not let your power slip through my fingers again!"

"MIGUEL!" Túlio screamed, fury finally freeing him from his sire's power.

"Then I guess you'll have to live with the disappointment, Rosamund, because I _am_ leaving." Miguel ignored Túlio, instead signaling to two of his followers to restrain his lieutenant. "Good night, my dear. Perhaps next time you'll come up with something more original." With a short bow, Miguel turned to sweep out of the room…

…and walked straight into a long, wooden dagger, the stake piercing through his clothes and his skin to bury itself in his heart.

Someone screamed. Túlio went pale. Dwayne felt Paul clutch at his shoulder.

The Widow cackled.

And Veronica laughed, uncaring of the blood staining her skin.


	20. We Came To Kill

((And now it's time for the final fight! Who will win? Who will die? Read on to find out! Just a few more chapters after this to wrap it up, and then it's time for the sequel! I might also post some in-between stories, some one shots from the time between this story and the sequel. They'll all be stand-alones, not attached to one fic or the other. Want to prompt me? Head over to my tumblr at unchainmesister! As always, comments feed my lust for battle (or writing)! A special thank you to everyone who's been with me since the beginning! You guys are the best! And now, on to the fight!))

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 _"MIGUEL!" Túlio screamed, fury finally freeing him from his sire's power._

 _"Then I guess you'll have to live with the disappointment, Rosamund, because I am leaving." Miguel ignored Túlio, instead signaling to two of his followers to restrain his lieutenant. "Good night, my dear. Perhaps next time you'll come up with something more original." With a short bow, Miguel turned to sweep out of the room…_

 _…and walked straight into a long, wooden dagger, the stake piercing through his clothes and his skin to bury itself in his heart._

 _Someone screamed. Túlio went pale. Dwayne felt Paul clutch at his shoulder._

 _The Widow cackled._

 _And Veronica laughed, uncaring of the blood staining her skin._

* * *

Time has a funny way of slowing down during the most important moments of your life. Maybe the world stands still while you dodge a car that nearly ran you over. Maybe the birth of your child seems to take years when it's only a matter of hours. Maybe you feel the air turn to molasses while you stare into the eyes of the one you're meant to fall in love with. No matter what the circumstance, though, time stills when your life is about to change forever.

For David, time had a thing for making him watch people die in slow motion.

He'd faced the very real hell of watching his brothers die, one by one, falling as if suspended on a string, slowly being lowered to the ground. Even if he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes, he'd felt is so keenly that he might as well have been standing there. He'd felt Max die, run through with the biggest stake imaginable, each inch of sharpened wood taking eons to pierce his skin. The Rogues had gone down like theater students trying to act out a freeze frame and failing miserably at it. Death liked to put on a show for David, and the bitch always made him watch it through to the end.

So it was no surprise that time seemed to pass at a snail's pace for David when Veronica pulled the stake from somewhere in her dress, pivot, and murder her "father." Surprisingly, though, the death of Miguel (may the asshole decay in everlasting suffering) was the furthest thing from his mind. He was sure that if death really was a person, it would be royally pissed off that David wasn't paying attention to its spectacular display of treachery and righteous punishment. Miguel was getting what he deserved in David's mind, but he wasn't sparing the patriarch any thought right now. No, he was focused on something far more important: the copper skull bracelet on Túlio's wrist. The skulls matched the ones Mae had given them, down to the verdigris collecting in the eye sockets. A quick glance showed that every member of Miguel's posse was wearing some kind of copper jewelry. There were earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. He even saw a few tiepins and cufflinks here and there. He risked a glance at Túlio, finally understanding the meaning: if you wore the copper skull, you were part of the family. When the fight began, don't hurt anyone with a skull, and they'll steer clear of you. David risked a mental broadcast to his brothers.

 _"Don't touch anyone with a copper skull. Mae didn't give us the skulls just to say goodbye! They're for protection. They mark us as part of the gang. They won't attack us."_

He didn't wait for the stunned reactions from the others, but he could sense their surprise and wonder as he focused back on the scene in front of him.

If he never saw another Old World vampire again, it would be too soon.

* * *

"Veronica…my daughter…why?" Miguel choked through the blood pouring out of his mouth. He fell to his knees, brought low by the woman he'd been grooming to take over for him someday, the woman who he'd treated as his very own daughter, caring for her as if she was his own flesh and blood.

"I'm only doing what you told me to, _Father_ : Trust no one, use everyone to your advantage…and kill those who stand in your way. You taught me those things, Father. If you'd wanted to live, maybe you should have kept those words to yourself. Goodbye, old man." Veronica laughed as she knelt down next to him, twisting the stake in his chest before pulling it out. She carefully wiped it clean on his lapel before standing again.

"The King is dead. Long live the Queen."

For a brief moment, something akin to pride shone in Miguel's eyes, before an unholy flame consumed him. Everyone in the room covered their eyes, even Veronica. When the fire disappeared, there was nothing left of the man who was king, not even his ashes. A stillness only vampires could achieve fell over the room, the shock of those who were closest to the former king almost palpable. Many startled when a slow clapping began, The Widow slowly moving forward to examine the blackened spot where Miguel's body had been just seconds before.

"Ah! That was excellent, my dear. Now, as promised…" The Widow pulled an envelope from her inside of her coat, handing it to Veronica. "One hundred thousand dollars and a letter of introduction from yours truly. Despite what Miguel may think of me, I still hold quite a bit of sway in the old country. This will get you into any court in Europe, but be wary of the easternmost ones: they're rather touchy about bloodlines, even though Miguel is your sire. Will there be anything else?"

Veronica slid the stake back into her pocket before examining the letter, making sure that it contained what she wanted. She quickly counted the bills, then grinned up at The Widow.

"You never fail to deliver, Mrs. Johnson. I'll take my leave of you now, shall I?"

"Of course, my dear. However…would you like to stay for the show? I think it would be prudent to weed out the most difficult of Miguel's former followers before I travel to Los Angeles, don't you think? I could use your insight." The Widow tilted her head, smiling coyly. "I could make it worth your while."

Veronica paused. Her greed was bleeding through, and that was all the distraction Túlio needed.

"FIIIIIGHT!" He screamed, the two men holding him back immediately letting him go to attack the nearest guards.

"Kill them all!" The Widow roared, her children bursting into action, coming down on the Los Angeles gang in waves.

With the men guarding them distracted, David sucker punched the nearest one, hearing more than seeing his brothers follow his lead. It was an all out war in miniature, the four walls of the warehouse making the fight claustrophobic and jarringly loud. Vampire fights were either messy, screaming affairs or silent dances, and the strange combination of both that was going on around him was unnerving at best. The Widow had retreated towards her throne, the Rogues and a few guards surrounding her. A quick glance showed that Mae was within the circle, still somewhat dazed from her transformation. Shit. He'd have to wait to rescue his sister until the Widow's gang was whittled down.

Veronica screamed, trying to run, only to be blocked by Túlio, who had drawn a knife from his boot. "This ends now, you fucking bitch!"

"Oh, come _on_ , Túlio! You hated him just as much as I did!" Veronica growled, sticking the letter in her pocket before drawing her own switchblade, twirling it open expertly.

"I never hated him until tonight, when he wanted to let my sister _die_!" Túlio snarled, the two circling each other, the other combatants giving them a wide berth.

"You always were the loyal little child, weren't you, Túlio? No ambition, just blindly following the first man to come through your shitty little village and bat his pretty little eyes at you." She lunged at him, scoring a cut across Túlio's cheek before he swiped at her legs, forcing her to back off again.

"It was never like that, Veronica. What, are you jealous that he trusted me more than he trusted you?" Túlio laughed at her reaction, enjoying the pure hatred seething across her features. "Let's face it, he always knew you were a snake. He just let his guard down tonight. He was going to give you some small part of his empire just to keep you busy while we handled the _real_ business of empire."

"You were just his messenger boy!" Veronica executed a quick series of kicks and slashes, trying to back Túlio into a corner.

"And you're running out of insults!" Túlio jeered, using Veronica's anger against her. She was the best knife fighter in the entire family, but she was young and inexperienced compared to someone as old as Túlio. She had yet to learn to control her temper, and that was her fatal weakness.

They moved too fast for mortal eyes to see clearly, a blur of blades and rapid attacks moving from one end of the warehouse to the other. Veronica had the skill of a combatant ten times her age, but Túlio's stamina and self-control were beyond measure. For every strike she made, he had a block and a countermove waiting. He sustained some damage, but all of it was superficial; he was waiting for her to tire, which would happen long before she could ever deliver a killing blow. His shirt and jacket were torn to shreds, his blood seeping through in several places, but Veronica was beginning to make elementary mistakes, her fury blinding her to how obviously she was projecting her next move now. This wasn't like fighting humans and blood-starved rogue vampires. Túlio had survived as long as he had for a reason.

Minutes felt like hours as the war around them was ignored in favor of revenge. Túlio had lost his love for his maker, but since he could no longer take his vengeance out on Miguel, he would teach his daughter a lesson she would never forget. Túlio began changing his tactics, making ever more aggressive moves, landing several strikes to Veronica's arms and sides, raining down death by a thousand cuts. His mouth was twisted into a hideous grin, his face transformed into the brutal angles of a vampire's true form. They were hideous monsters, each fighting for their own selfish satisfaction, but there was one major difference between the two of them: Veronica was fighting for imagined slights, but Túlio fought for family. And in the end, he would win.

* * *

In the time it had taken for Túlio to wear Veronica down, the Los Angeles vampires had begun thinning out The Widow's children. Blood, gore, and ashes were smeared across the concrete floor of the warehouse. For every L.A. vampire that fell, six of The Widow's brood were killed in revenge. They may outnumber the L.A. gang, but Túlio's family were a more experienced, more cohesive whole who had just come from finishing a war with dozens of armies just like this one. David and Dwayne found themselves back to back, helping two of Túlio's crew take down a pair of guards who must have been soldiers in their old lives. They knew how to use the knife-shaped stakes in their hands, and both were packed with muscle and rage. Dwayne was taking one on face-to-face, while David attacked from the side, trying to distract the guard so that Dwayne could make his killing blow.

Both brothers had picked up stakes from the corpses of the fallen, and they had used them with deadly results. At least seventeen of The Widow's children lay dead by their hands, and with a quick double-teamed attack, the ex-military guard became their eighteenth kill. They broke off to regroup with Paul and Marko, who were using their speed to help Casper pick off the swiftest of The Widow's underlings. The three worked like a well-oiled machine, taking down enemies like they'd been fighting together for decades. Paul would set up the victim, Casper would keep their attention, and Marko would rip their head off. None of them had any weapons, but it looked like they didn't need them. The numbers were getting pretty even now, and The Widow was beginning to realize that she might not win the night. Good. Let her sweat.

"Hey boss!" Paul cackled, his face smeared with blood and dirt from a tumble he'd taken some time ago.

"We need to keep Rosamund from escaping." Casper panted, catching his unnecessary breath as the five searched the perimeter for stragglers. What little remained of The Widow's forces were occupied towards the center of the warehouse, her last loyalists forming a vampiric wall around her throne. While it kept her safe from attack, it also locked her in, keeping her from making a dash for the door.

"Grab some of your best fighters, Casper. We'll make a run for her throne. Go!" David growled, sending the tracker off to find enough of his brethren to make an attack worthwhile.

"Where's Túlio? They'd rally behind him." Marko wiped blood away from his eyes, a cut on his forehead the only wound he'd collected so far.

"Yeah, and why aren't they using their guns?" Dwayne rammed his stake into a fledgling that was too stupid to realize that he was heavily outnumbered.

"We're in too close. They'd hit their own men at this point, and they need all the bodies they can get." Marko pointed at the tangle of vampires surrounding the throne. The fighters were packed in so tight that firing into the crowd would be just as likely to kill an ally as it would an enemy.

"There he is!" Paul pointed across the warehouse, near the door. Túlio was still locked in battle with Veronica, the two of them moving almost too fast for David to follow.

"Fuck. We'll have to do it on our own." David scowled. He heard Marko rip apart another vampire as Casper approached, three L.A. vamps trailing behind him. They were wounded, but they still had a fire in their eyes, which would have to be enough.

"Dollar Fifty's in the crowd, but if we can get to him, he can make a hole for us. You guys can get to The Widow while we hold off her guards. Got it?" Casper looked from vampire to vampire, waiting for their acknowledgement. David bared his teeth in a savage grin.

"Got it. Let's go."

* * *

"Give up, Veronica. This is getting tiresome for both of us."

Túlio had backed his enemy into a corner once again, and this time, there was no way for her to escape. Her allies were dying or dead, too busy focusing on protecting their queen instead of helping the traitor in their midst. Túlio might be littered in cuts and bruises, but he was still standing tall, while Veronica, who had taken less damage but was actually beginning to pant from overexertion, was nearing the brink of exhaustion. All that was left for her to do was to choose how she died. If only she wasn't so blind to her situation that she knew that it was over…but Veronica had always been shortsighted.

"I can do this all day!" Veronica growled, wiping blood from her forehead. Túlio had scored a glancing blow there several minutes ago, and the fragile skin of her scalp was pouring blood.

"I think we both know the answer to that. Give up now, Veronica, and I can promise you a fair trial back in Los Angeles." Of course, he never meant for her to get back to the city of angels, but she didn't have to know that.

"Never!"

With a piercing scream, Veronica charged at him, trying to overpower him with her sudden burst of energy, but Túlio knew all of her tricks. He easily dodged the wild slash, flipping his knife in his hand and pressing a hidden button, a small, thin stake sliding down from the handle. Túlio savored the look of horrified fear in Veronica's eyes when she saw far too late that her careless move was her own undoing. Her body slammed into the stake, the wood piercing her sternum and driving straight into her black heart. A choked gasp fell from her lips as thick, sticky blood poured from her chest and onto Túlio's suit. With a wicked grin, he drove the stake in farther, his vicious glee adding insult to grievous injury. Veronica fell to her knees, grabbing at his coat on the way down, her blood-slick hands scrabbling to find purchase on the wet fabric. Túlio knelt with her in a sick parody of what Veronica had done to Miguel mere minutes before.

"After all he did to you…you did this for Miguel?" The blood coating her ruined throat turned Veronica's voice into a hideous mockery of its usual sultry nature.

"No, Veronica." He pulled the stake from her chest, licking the blood from the sharp edge. Slowly, the unholy fire of death began to consume her. As the flames began to lick at her eyes, Túlio stood, his fangs flashing in the fiendish light.

"I did this for myself."

* * *

The Widow stood in front of her throne, surrounded by what was left of her army. Mae stood by her side, deathly still as her eyes stared into the middle distance, her entire body unfocused from the chaos around her. The Rogues stood in front of their mother, The Widow's favored children itching to join the fight, but they were blocked by their creator's command to protect her at all costs. They were the last line of defense, and the Los Angeles vampires were slowly closing in on them. There were only about twenty of The Widow's regular soldiers left, fighting a futile battle against a force of thirty far more experienced combatants. The Widow caught flashes here and there of the white-haired captain of Miguel's old guard, along with the pale blonde hair of David, the would-be king of Santa Carla. Her hands twitched as she tried to think of an escape plan that would bring her to safety while costing her as few of her men as possible. Nothing was coming.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the dying screams of a woman, and her gaze shot across the warehouse to see Túlio, Miguel's most trusted servant, standing over the ashes of Veronica. Oh, well. She wasn't exactly invested in the little girl anyway. She'd been a snake in the grass, all too ready to betray the ones who loved her most for her own personal gain. That letter of introduction would only get her so much in Europe, and The Widow was sure that Veronica would probably have ended up dead within a decade unless she managed to tie herself to another equally foolish lord of the undead. Good riddance. She turned back to the fight at hand, eyeing the rusted catwalks above her head. She and her followers could easily leap up and reach the railings and pull themselves onto the walkways, but they only lead to the far walls. By the time The Widow and her cronies could smash the large upper windows and climb out, the Los Angeles vampires would have caught onto their plans and sent someone out after them. She'd lose at least six of her followers that way. Still, it was the only plan she had left, and the sun would rise in three hours. She didn't have time to wait things out.

Just as she was about to command Joaquin and his brothers to lead the way, a roar of triumph broke over the sounds of blood spilling and bodies colliding. The largest of Miguel's personal guard, a tall black man with eyes brimming with fury, broke through her line of soldiers, holding off the nearest two as the Lost Boys and the white-haired captain broke through, charging at Joaquin, Noah, and Ryder.

"Destroy them!" She screeched, grabbing Mae as she eyed the catwalks above. The girl next to her swayed, but said nothing.

Joaquin growled and charged at David, eager to settle the personal score he had with the leader of the Lost Boys. Ryder took on Casper and Paul, while Noah danced away from Dwayne and Marko's combined attacks. Unlike their foes, the Rogues were well-rested and well-fed, which gave them the slight advantage they needed to take on such powerful enemies on equal terms. The Widow closed her eyes, focusing her powers, sensing the vampiric souls of each person in the room. She concentrated on the vampires fighting her soldiers, although it was hard to pick out her soldiers from the enemy when they were right on top of each other. With as much strength as she could muster, she opened her eyes, forcing a mesmer over as many of her adversaries as possible, a strained smile spreading over her lips as the vampires before her began to fall over, stunned into stillness. The soldiers that hadn't fallen victim to the mesmer as well took their advantage immediately, fighting what few of their opponents remained on equal ground.

"Someday, I'll teach you how to do this, my dear." She whispered to Mae, gripping the girl's shoulder tightly to keep herself balanced. "Mummy will take good care of you."

Mae remained as silent as the grave.

* * *

The world shrunk down to nothing, only the fight in front of him. Joaquin was born for this, to rip and tear and maim, to kill without a second thought. He'd been raised from nothing to become the blade at his mother's side, serving his maker as the most honored of her bodyguards, sacrificing himself time and again to serve her goals. Soon, he would be a prince among vampires, enforcer for the greatest empire the undead had ever seen. He would never go hungry again. He would never feel the touch of death. He would be immortal in more ways than one…

Sadly, his delusion didn't last long.

Noah was the first to fall. He looked so delicate and fragile at first glance, but his frail body hid an inner strength and cunning that made him perhaps the most dangerous of them all. He'd survived battles with stronger foes, only letting himself be destroyed by the Lost Boys in their previous fight, all in the service of their mother. Noah tried to play his opponents strengths against each other, dodging so that the swifter Marko would end up in the way of Dwayne's brutal blows while Noah danced out of the way. He watched as Dwayne had to abort his attacks again and again to avoid hurting his brother, laughing when Marko cursed up a storm as he tried to read Noah's next move before he even made it. It actually wasn't Marko or Dwayne that killed Noah. No, it was his own hubris, his literal lack of foresight.

An L.A. vampire, wrestling with one of the few remaining guards with a gun, shoved his opponent to the ground, causing the guard to fire his gun into the air…and right into Noah's face. If Noah had been bothering to pay attention to his surroundings, he would have seen the bullet coming from a mile away, but he was too busy taunting his adversaries. In an instant, half his face was gone, and the rest quickly melted away as the silver eroded his skin and muscle. Without a moment's hesitation, Dwayne ripped the remains of Noah's head off of his shoulders, the blonde's body crumpling to the floor. Someone tossed Marko a stake, which he caught without looking before bringing it down into Noah's chest, permanently destroying Joaquin's brother. Ryder's screams of rage and despair filled the air as their brother's body disintegrated in eerie flames.

Ryder's grief made him careless. All three brothers were close, but Ryder lacked Joaquin's self-control. Mourning the loss of his brother, Ryder dropped all pretense of strategy, instead attacking with a fury born from pure agony. He was a blur of motion, landing hit after hit on Casper and Paul, his bare fists hitting flesh with bruising strength. He was smaller than the other two, which let him dodge beneath their blows with ease. While Paul might be the least experienced fighter of his brothers, Casper had nearly a century's worth of practice, and his shrewd eyes quickly found the flaws in Ryder's technique. For a moment, he let Paul take the brunt of Ryder's anger, silently hoping that Paul would forgive him later. While the blonde struggled to hold Ryder off, Casper flanked the smaller man, waiting for the right opening. When he saw it, he struck with the speed of a vampire ten times his age, ripping Ryder's throat wide open. The wound distracted Ryder long enough for Marko to throw the stake to Paul, who in turn threw it to Casper, who drove it through Ryder's shoulder blade and into his heart. His vocal chords ruined, Ryder was unable to scream as he turned into ash, his eyes finding Joaquin's as he crumbled into nothing. Terror, pure terror was the last look he ever gave his eldest brother before passing into the dark beyond.

Now, there was only Joaquin, last of his family, the man who would be the conquering prince, facing the lost boy who would be king. The others hung back, letting David have his turn. He and Joaquin had been trading blows ever since the brothers had broken through the guards' line, but each had been distracted by the battles to either side of them. With his brothers dead, there were no more distractions. Joaquin could see that the end was near. He had nothing to live for with his family gone, but maybe he could take someone with him. The Lost Boys would feel his pain. They would pay for the lives of his brothers with one of their own. Rage colored his eyes a scarlet-tinged yellow, his body trembling with pent-up energy. David had only a second to ready himself for the attack before Joaquin sprang into action, his scream a shrieking, desolate sound. David could almost pity the man. Almost.

There was no finesse, no technique to Joaquin's attacks. He had no strategy, only the furious need to inflict as much pain and agony as possible on David. He may be younger than the icy blonde, but he was faster, fueled by vengeance. It was all David could do to block as many of Joaquin's blow as possible, but he was soon littered in bruises and cuts as Joaquin's claws tore at his face and clothes. Still, speed wasn't everything, and like his brothers before him, Joaquin grew careless, leaving opening after opening for David to take advantage of, and take advantage he did. Joaquin began to wear down as David kicked and punched at his ribs and knees, trying to break bone. Finally, Joaquin's left leg gave out, the femur giving out under David's heel. He tried to balance on his right leg, but he spent too much time overcorrecting, and he missed David rearing back to deliver at crippling blow to his sternum, shattering the bone with a hideous crunch. Joaquin began to fall backwards, but David grabbed him by the neck, his claws piercing the skin. Wetness coated Joaquin's chest, his bare skin glistening with his own blood. The end had come. Without looking away from Joaquin's defiant gaze, David held out his hand for the stake. Casper wordlessly slipped it onto his palm, falling back to stand with the others. Joaquin forced breath to pass through his constricted throat, his lips moving with incredible effort.

"…Do it…"

The last thing Joaquin ever knew was the coldness of David's solemn, merciless gaze.

* * *

The Widow stood in silent fear as Joaquin succumbed to his final death, his body disappearing into burning ash in David's hands. She finally tore her gaze from the terrifying sight, casting about for someone, anyone to come to her aid. Her soldiers were all dead. The Los Angeles vampires were slowly coming out of their mesmer-induced trance. David and his brothers stood between her and the warehouse doors. The sound of metal scraping caught her attention, and she looked up to see several vampires standing on the catwalks, blocking her last escape route. She was well and truly surrounded. Running was no longer an option. She brought her gaze back down to David, who stood before her with a bloody stake in his hand. The utter hatred in his eyes, and the eyes of the ones behind him, would have been enough to make a lesser woman break down in tears, but she was made of sterner stuff. She had one last card to play, an ace up her sleeve. With a confident smile, she stood tall before her enemies, raising an eyebrow.

"Mae, dear?"

"Yes, Mother." Mae's voice was quiet, but it was enough to shock her brothers and would-be rescuers into stillness.

"I think it's time we left, don't you?"

"As you wish, Mother."

"If any of you come near me, Mae will be the first to feel your blade. Let us leave, and Mae will live. Don't worry. I'll treat her well. She just needs a mother's love." She cooed, petting Mae's cheek. Her eyes turned cold when she looked back at David. "Try to stop me, and I'll be sure to take her with me when I die. Are we clear?" The Widow's painted lips stretched into a triumphant grin.

David looked between The Widow and Mae, whose eyes were still distant. She was still well and truly under The Widow's thrall. Shit. He glanced back at his brothers. Paul's hands twitched, but his eyes were steady. He nodded. Dwayne's eyes were cold with anger, but he saw no way around it. His agreement followed Paul's. Marko was thinking of all the ways he could brutally kill The Widow, but he knew that each and every solution ended with Mae's death as well. They would rescue her soon. David felt Marko's acceptance in the back of his mind. With a look that could set ice on fire, David dropped the stake. All around him, the other vampires dropped their weapons, stepping back to leave a path to the doorway. The Widow smiled serenely, slipping an arm through Mae's.

"Come now, dear. It's time to go." The Widow purred, but before she could take a single step, Mae's hand came to rest on her upper arm.

"Mother?"

"Yes, dear?" The Widow asked impatiently, wanting to leave as quickly as possible.

Mae leaned in as if to tell The Widow a secret. Without a second thought, The Widow leaned in, indulging her fledgling's whim, eager to get moving. In a move so fast that not even Túlio could see it happen, Mae's clawed hand buried itself in The Widow's chest. Dark blood stained The Widow's pristine white Armani suit as she gasped for air she hadn't needed in over a thousand years.

"In all the time you spent studying me, trying to see if I would be the perfect bait in your little game, there's something you should have seen in an instant, _Mother_." Mae crooned mockingly, chuckling darkly when The Widow's confused gaze finally met her own. With an almost seductive grin, Mae leaned in to whisper into The Widow's ear.

"I always _hated_ my mother. What makes you think you'd be any different?"

Then, with hardly any effort at all, Mae tore The Widow's heart from her chest.

* * *

Rosamund had hardly any time at all to realize how deeply she had miscalculated before the pain consumed her. Through watery eyes tinged with blood, she saw Mae draw small, thin wooden dagger from her belt, the weapon cleverly hidden in her belt buckle. No! The guards had checked Mae for weapons, she was sure of it. Had she been outwitted by a mere mortal? The answer, it seemed, was yes, she had.

Almost thoughtlessly, Mae plunged the wooden blade into the shriveled black husk that had been Rosamund's heart. Slowly, ungodly fire consumed the desiccated organ, scorching Mae's hand, not that she noticed. Smoke began to rise from Rosamund's skin, and in the corner of the warehouse, she could have sworn she saw a tall, dark figure laughing at her defeat. Her screams filled the air as she was devoured, her killer standing coldly above her, watching her death with wicked satisfaction.

All too fast, and not fast enough, all the was left of The Widow, the woman once named Rosamund, was a pile of smoldering ash.


	21. Things We Lost In The Fire

((Hey guys! This one came out super quick, so forgive me if there's any mistakes. Just let me know! This chapter's a bit of a cool down for everyone, with lots of _FEELINGS_! Lots of shipper stuff too, if y'all like that stuff. For those of you that don't, enjoy the angst! Also, Marko speaks in a rather unusual language...what is it? If you can't guess it (or use google translate because honestly it's there and it's correct as far as I can tell), don't worry! It'll be talked about a little bit more in the next chapter. As always, thank you for commenting! It's what keeps my shriveled soul going! And come follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr!))

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All was still in the aftermath. No one there needed to breathe, so not even the rising and falling of toiling chests broke the silence. In the distance, there was the gentle pulsing of the waves on the sandy shore and the wail of a single police siren. Rats skittered here and there outside of the warehouse, but none dared to come inside. Even they could smell the taint in a vampire's blood, and they dared not pick at whatever flesh remained. The acrid stench of smoke singed the air, along with the stomach turning smell of cooked skin. As if slowly pulling herself out of a deep pit of quicksand, Mae turned her head and looked at her charred hand, flexing the fingers as brittle skin cracked and peeled away. The flesh underneath was raw and pink, but whole. There was pain, but it was slowly fading away as her body repaired itself. A quick soak in some blood would finish the process.

The sound of crackling skin finally broke the trance that had settled over those who remained in the warehouse, and a quiet mix of cheering and exhausted laughter filled the air. The Los Angeles vampires would mourn their dead soon enough; now was the time for celebrating their victory. David and his brothers exchanged weary glances, simultaneously checking to see if the others were all right while trying to process what had just happened. Marko was the first to break away, carefully approaching Mae, who, save for absently opening and closing her hand, hadn't moved an inch since she'd killed Old Widow Johnson. He stopped a hairsbreadth away from her, their bodies close but not touching. His hand rose to caress her cheek, the movement tentative and almost frightened. Was she still under The Widow's control? Was there anything left of the woman he loved, or was she someone new, someone dangerous? He tilted her head so he could look her in the eye. Her eyes had returned to their normal color, the deep brown of her irises still horrifyingly blank. No. Please, no.

"Mae?" Marko whispered, feeling his brothers come to a halt behind him, all four of them staring at their sister.

A few moments passed in silence, although in the distance, they could still hear the other vampires laughing and moving around. Then, a fog seemed to lift from Mae's eyes, her shoulders lowering as if she'd shed some great burden she'd been carrying. A soft smile graced her lips, and she finally leaned into Marko's hand.

"Hey." Her voice was raw and gravelly, but it held none of the anger and contempt they'd all heard just moments ago when she'd killed The Widow. "You look like shit."

Paul cracked up, his laugh frenzied with relief. David and Dwayne leaned against each other, torn between rolling their eyes and following Paul into hysteria. Marko pulled Mae into his arms, holding her as close as her could, allowing himself to, just this once, be vulnerable in front of this many people. He stroked her hair, feeling her grab onto his jacket with her good hand in return. Without even knowing he was doing it, Marko whispered furiously into her hair, the words pouring out without his conscious consent. Mae couldn't understand what he was saying; it was in a language she didn't speak, but his tone and the gentle trembling she felt in his bones told her that he must have been baring his soul. She buried her face in his neck, unable to find a trace of his usual scent of motor oil and worn denim underneath all the blood and ash caked to his skin. For more reasons than this, she wished they were far away from here, safe inside their home, pretending as if none of this had ever happened. Several long moments later, Marko finally pulled back, resting their foreheads together.

"кохана..." He murmured, the word soft and reverent, his relief and desperation palpable.

"кохана…?" Mae repeated, trying to repeat the word, but before she could get a response, Paul dove in, wrapping the two of them up in his arms.

David and Dwayne were dragged into the group hug as well, the tension of the past few days evaporating into something a little bit more manageable as their family was finally reunited. Mae leaned into Dwayne, who had placed himself firmly on her right side, away from her damaged hand so that resting against him wouldn't cause her any pain. Paul was practically vibrating with joy, the sweetness of their victory proving to be the best high he'd had in decades. David remained as cool as ever, but he allowed himself a small, genuine smile as he watched over his brothers and sister. Túlio's quiet approach several minutes later was what finally broke them up, but all five of them remained as close as possible.

"Túlio…I'm so sorry…" Mae murmured, stepping forward to meet her eldest brother halfway. Túlio looked terrible, but his posture was triumphant and strong. He would be fine, physically, at least. "I couldn't stop her. I wasn't strong enough."

"Mae…" Túlio sighed, pulling her forward into an embrace. "None of this was your fault. Miguel and Rosamund have been playing this game for centuries, and I let them. This would have happened whether you were here or not, but this…this was the first time in the history of their private little war that she'd had someone I truly cared about in her claws. I should have seen her power hanging over you when we were here last, but I was blind."

"That wasn't your fault either, Viejo. She was more powerful than all of us. I was just lucky that she got so sloppy at the end. She dropped her hold on me just long enough that I could rip out her fucking heart." Mae nuzzled into him, holding her left hand away from them both, her arm trembling as the pain came back to the front of her consciousness.

"They played us both. They played all of us, and for what? Some throne that means nothing if you have no subjects to rule." Túlio stared gloomily at the chair The Widow was so fond of. "I was nothing to him. I gave him my life, my loyalty, my trust, and when someone I cared for more than life itself was in danger, he did nothing."

"…I always knew I was expendable to him, Túlio, but you were so enamored by Miguel that I never wanted to break your illusions."

"I wish you had." Túlio whispered.

"So do I."

And while the world moved around them, they stood there in each other's arms, grieving all the things they'd lost that night.

* * *

Túlio and the Los Angeles vampires had graciously offered to clean the warehouse and make sure that the evidence of the battle was gone. They would spend the day beneath the building, then come to Mae's house to say goodbye before heading back to L.A. They'd come by truck, with most of the vampires riding in trailers attached to the back so they could pull over and bunker down for the day if something happened. Out of the fifty vampires that had come north for the fight, six had died. Miguel had been sure to bring only his best and most experienced warriors, so The Widow's army of fresh fledglings had never stood a chance. It was only bad luck that had caused the downfall of those six vampires. Luckily for them, The Widow's children were sloppy, and there were enough remains for them to save the fallen. Even in death, The Widow had failed. Only Veronica and Miguel were beyond saving, not that anyone wanted to bring them back. It was clear now that Miguel had thought of his coven as expendable if it meant holding onto his power. Let him stay dead. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The less that was said about Veronica, the better.

Two hours before sunrise, David lead his family across the empty streets of Santa Carla, eager to return home and put as much distance between them and the warehouse as possible. Mae rode with Marko, who did his best to avoid the various potholes and bumps in the road, in deference to Mae being unable to hold onto him with both hands. The time it took to reach the old Clayton house seemed to stretch on forever, but once they were there, it felt like nothing. Their bikes were stored away in the shed, and one by one, the five of them trudged into the house, aching and weary.

When the door was locked, they all stood in the center of the living room, unsure of what to do. It was getting too late to go out and hunt, and none of them were really up for it, anyway. Paul had the most visible damage, while Dwayne probably had the most painful wounds of them all. Mae's hand was still half-charred, and while David and Marko had no visible marks, they had bruising and scrapes beneath their torn clothes. In Mae's own words, they all looked like shit.

"…I thought I was going to die." Mae whispered to no one in particular. The others froze, then turned towards her.

"We'd never let that happen, Mae." Dwayne frowned, wondering where this line of thought was going.

"…Let me rephrase that…" Mae flexed her burned hand, hissing at the pain. "What I meant was, I was _supposed_ to die. Miguel was never a good man. He would have killed me himself if it meant staying alive and getting one over on Rosamund. And she would have killed me in an instant if she thought I wasn't useful anymore. I'm just…I've spent the last few months _knowing_ that I was going to die today, one way or another."

David and Marko were the first to understand, exchanging horrified looks.

"The Widow…she had you under her spell this entire time?" Marko's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Ever since I was kidnapped. She made Joaquin give me his blood, but she placed a mesmer so deep in my mind that not even Túlio could see it." A half-crazed smile pulled at her lips, her eyes wide with a deeply buried fear. "On New Year's Eve, I was to bring you to the warehouse, where you'd be kept as insurance so that I didn't try to run away. Once Miguel came, I would be used as bait against him. I knew that it wouldn't work. Miguel could care less about me. So either way…"

"You were dead." Dwayne finished, his voice grim with repressed fury.

"Yeah." Mae giggled hysterically, the quiet sounds soon turning into sobs. "I was gonna die. I was gonna _die_." To her utter surprise, it was David that pulled her into his arms, muffling her cries against his jacket.

He said nothing, just letting her release her emotions in the only way she could. The others came closer, leaning against David or Mae, waiting for the last bit of human terror to clear itself from Mae's body. None of them had escaped unharmed, physically or mentally, but Mae had been dealing with a literal countdown to her own doom for months on end without them ever knowing it.

They were strong. They were vampires. They were the Lost Boys, but in that moment, they just felt like children clinging to each other in the dark of the night. Tomorrow, they would be strong again. Tomorrow, they would be the kings they were always meant to be. Tonight, though…

Tonight, they were human.

* * *

Several large oil drums had been dragged into the center of the warehouse, each filled with as much kindling and gasoline as they could find. All the remaining bodies of The Widow's children were burned to a crisp, dissolving into putrid grey dust amidst the flames. The bodies of their own dead were gathered with great care and reverence and wrapped in spare blankets from the trucks. They'd be guarded overnight in the warehouse before the company traveled back to Los Angeles.

Half an hour before sunrise, Túlio ordered everyone downstairs after they smothered the last of the flames. The only vampires that would return from the brink of death tomorrow night would be the six they lost; the rest were forever damned to their eternal death. Túlio spat on the black spot The Widow's ashes had left as he passed them. The other vampires did the same if they weren't too exhausted to do more than just follow their friends blindly downstairs. Boxes and borrowed jackets were piled together to form makeshift beds for those who wanted them, while others checked the sturdiness of the pipes above their heads to see if they could withstand the weight of a sleeping vampire. Túlio slid down the nearest wall and curled in on himself, knowing that his sleep would be difficult tonight. Casper sat next to him, offering his silent companionship as Dollar Fifty helped some of the more injured of their coven bed down for the day. The white-haired man offered Túlio his last cigarette, which the brunet accepted gratefully. Túlio took a deep pull before handing it over to Casper, who took a drag of his own.

"…We're leaderless now…" Túlio murmured, staring blindly ahead.

"No. We're not." Casper replied simply, passing the death stick back over to his friend.

"Miguel is dead. We need to elect a new master."

"Not a master, Túlio. A true leader would never be so callous as Miguel was. We could all see it during the war with the gangs. He'd never been like that…so…cruel. He was just like Rosamund, only he was better at hiding it." Casper growled, an unusual display of emotion for the normally quiet man. "You were blinded by your admiration for him, admiration he was never worthy of. Your loyalty was wasted on him."

Túlio looked over at his friend, confused by the sudden emotion overtaking Casper. When he wasn't literally out of his mind, Casper was usually one of the mellowest individuals Túlio had ever met. Anger wasn't in his nature. He took another drag on the cigarette before letting Casper take it.

"…Casper…not that I'm not touched, but…what's bringing this on?"

"You should be our new leader, Túlio. You're strong but not domineering, kind but not weak. You know that cruelty is the last resort of good men, and you've lived long enough to know how the world works, but you're not so old that you've forgotten what it's like to be human."

"I appreciate your vote of confidence, but what about the others?" Túlio tilted his head, too tired to be anything but curious. If he hadn't just fought for his life, he would be flattered and flustered by Casper's sincere praise.

Casper's bright blue eyes stared into Túlio for a moment, searching for something he didn't find. He stood in a single fluid movement, stomping out the remains of the cigarette.

"Mi familia!" He cried, catching the attention of the others in the basement. "We're a hydra without a head! We need a new leader! Who among us is worthy of being crowned king of this coven?"

Forty-six voices cried out in answer.

"Túlio!"

"Túlio!"

"Long live the king!"

Túlio gasped as Casper pulled him to his feet, the taller man pulling Túlio to his chest. Their eyes met, dark brown and vivid blue, as Casper leaned in close enough for Túlio to taste the air passing through Casper's lips.

"Your people have spoken, Túlio. Long live the king." Casper's voice was soft, but filled with conviction.

" _Never_ doubt yourself again. We believe in you. We love you." His lips fluttered against Túlio's. " _I_ love you."

Casper crashed his lips against Túlio's, capturing the startled, but pleased moan that escaped the smaller man.

And all around them, their people cheered.

* * *

It was difficult to part from each other, but in the interest of not sleeping covered in the blood of their enemies, the Lost reluctantly split up, wanting to get clean as quickly as possible before retreating back to their hidden room. Dwayne and Paul took the downstairs shower. David could faintly hear Dwayne undressing while the counter creaked under Paul's weight. Partnering up, even if it was just to be in the same room as each other, was all that made parting bearable. Someone on the outside looking in would probably diagnose them all with codependency issues. David nearly laughed at the idea, but there was some truth to it. Oh, well. There were worse things.

Mae led the way upstairs to her room, having offered to let David use her shower (just this once) since it was faster than filling up the ancient tub down the hall. It also meant that David wouldn't have to be alone, although he'd brave it if it meant his family was comfortable. Marko had his arm securely around Mae's waist, holding her close as they made the journey upwards. It was a sign of just how exhausted they all were that they forgot to fly up instead of taking the stairs. When they finally reached Mae's room, the three of them stood still for a moment, trying to silently figure out who would go first. Out of deference to David's position, Mae was about to offer him the first go, but his expression gave her pause.

"…David?" She murmured, pressing a kiss to Marko's cheek before slipping out of his hold. David's posture was rigid, his face its normal mask of cool aloofness, but his eyes were tumultuous with some unnamed emotion.

"…It's nothing. Just lost in thought." David waved it off, taking off his jacket and letting it crumple haphazardly on the floor as he toed out of his boots. Mae could sense that Marko was holding still, watching them with interest and concern.

"David." Mae pried, but he simply ignored her, focusing on getting down to his jeans and t-shirt.

"David." Mae growled, pinning him to the wall with her newfound strength. What she forgot, however, was just how damaged her hand really was. She nearly howled in pain, clutching at her wrist, not daring to touch her burned hand.

"Shit." Marko came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and peering over her shoulder to take a closer look.

David had been stunned by the sudden act of violence from his little sister, but he recovered quickly, stepping forward to examine her injured hand. Without a word, he bared his fangs and sank them into the meat of his palm, deep enough to open several veins. Thankfully, he hadn't lost as much blood as Dwayne or Paul, so he had plenty to spare. He glanced at Marko, giving his brother a nod. Marko understood, holding Mae tightly as she breathed deeply, trying to recover from the pain. David grabbed her wrist and pressed their hands together, right to left, as Marko placed a hand over Mae's mouth, quieting her agonized scream. Within seconds, her wails died down, replaced by quiet sobbing as David's blood did its work, healing the damage to Mae's skin.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck…god-fucking-damnit!" Mae grit out, her teeth grinding together as she tried to get herself under control again. "Warn a girl next time!"

"You're welcome." David rolled his eyes, but his words held no sting.

He held their palms together for a few more minutes, letting his blood soak into her veins. Distantly, he felt a connection begin to form in the back of his mind. They weren't sharing enough blood to form a bond, but just that faint inkling was reassuring: Mae would never be entirely out of his reach. They'd have to talk about what happened and figure out what they could do about it, but that was a conversation for another night. When he felt nothing but cool skin beneath his own, David pulled his hand away. Mae's palm was stained dark red with his blood, but her flesh was whole again, right down to her fingertips. Mae flexed her hand, sighing in relief when there was no pain. Without thinking, David brought her hand up to his lips, carefully licking off the remaining blood. It was uncharacteristically gentle of him, and the gesture didn't escape Mae or Marko's notice. A quick look passed between the two lovers as they spoke without words. David didn't notice the decision being reached beneath his very nose, instead losing himself for a moment in the taste of his blood mingled with the sweetness of Mae's skin.

"David…" Mae whispered, bringing him out of his trance.

His blue eyes met hers as he realized what he'd been doing. Shame wasn't in his vocabulary anymore, but he knew that he might have just crossed a line. Normally, he wouldn't care, but Marko was his brother and Mae was his sister. Yes, there had been something of a… _flirtation_ between Mae and David not too long ago, but that was in the past now, wasn't it? David was an honorable man when it pleased him, and he would never want to hurt the ones he loved with his own selfish desires. Never again.

"Mae." He replied, waiting for her or Marko to pass judgment. The two of them exchanged another glance; this time, Marko gave a slight nod, stepping back to give Mae and David some space. David's eyebrows rose in confusion, but he waited for Mae to make the first move. Marko leaned against the wall, just watching them, an expression of interested amusement flitting across his face.

"…Remember when we kissed?" Mae began, her voice surprisingly gentle. The intimacy of the moment remained instead of being broken by a rebuke. David simply nodded in reply, not trusting himself to speak yet. He couldn't figure out what her angle was yet.

"I love Marko." Mae declared, ignoring the soft inhale behind her. That would be dealt with later. "I love him down to my very bones. I love Dwayne, because he is my brother, the same as if we were born from one mother. I love Paul, because he is my friend, and I can't imagine life without him at my side." She placed both of her hands on David's face, her thumbs stroking across his cheekbones.

"And I love you, David. You drive me utterly insane. You're a stubborn asshole who thinks way too highly of himself. You never listen unless you want to, you're possessive, you're angry, and you're a fucking nightmare to be around sometimes." Mae might be listing off all of his flaws, but she sounded strangely…fond.

"The point is…" Mae sighed, leaning in closer. "The point is, I love you, and I want you. I know you want me too. Maybe not all the time, maybe not in the way Marko does, but you still do. You trust me. You were scared of losing me, weren't you? You all were."

"Yes."

"I was so scared of dying, not just because I wasn't ready to go, but because I'd leave you all behind. I knew you'd survive it, but I didn't want you to have to suffer through it in the first place." Mae's eyes lowered, gazing at David's lips.

He had a cut going across his chin, and Mae leaned in to lick at the blood still oozing from it. David gasped, arousal flickering through him. He flicked his gaze up to meet Marko's, raising an eyebrow at the blonde's amused grin. Marko shrugged, indicating that this conversation was between David and Mae.

"What do you want, Mae?" David growled.

"I want you to kiss me." Mae grinned, looking back up at him. "I want you to come to me when you need me. I want to come to you when I need you. I want you to pull me aside and pin me to the wall when we fight. I want you to take me when all we want to do is scream at each other." She leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"I want you to come and find me when you need to be gentled, when you need to be held, where no one else can see. I want you to trust me, the way that I trust you. I want you to lie next to me tonight and feel free to put your hand in mine while we sleep, because you need to know that I'm still there. I want to wake up tomorrow tangled up in you and Marko, and not feel ashamed that having you with me makes me happy. I want to give you what you want, because it pleases me. Is that clear enough for you, David?"

David pulled back enough to stare long and hard into her eyes, and Mae allowed it, remaining as open as she possibly could be. The tension between them had never left, but they had both ignored it once Mae and Marko had gotten together. Mae was offering him comfort, a free pass to act on his desires, because she wanted it too, and Marko didn't mind. It wasn't a relationship, but it wasn't just friendship, either. The sex would be wild, for sure, and he had a feeling that Marko would be involved in some way at least some of the time. Oddly enough, he wasn't exactly against that, although he wasn't sure how it would work. Mae wasn't his fledgling; she wasn't his to control, like the others were, but this way, he could still have the power he need, the control he craved, with her permission. They'd fight, and tear at each other, and they'd scream, but it would all end with something better than a broken family. Yes…yes, this could work.

Just as he was about to reply, Mae kissed the pleased smile right off of his face, but for once, David didn't mind being interrupted.

Marko's laughter, however, ended abruptly with a swift and silent command to shut the fuck up.

* * *

A few showers and some clean clothes later, the ragtag family found themselves in the hidden room, the two freestanding beds pushed together to form a bed large enough for all five of them to squeeze in together. Dwayne, as always, was on the outside, placing himself closest to the door without even thinking. Even when he was worn out, he was protecting his family. Paul was next to him, sprawled out on his back already, even though he wasn't asleep yet. He was something of an octopus, though, so unless he managed to sleep through the night without moving, Dwayne would probably end up with an armful of blonde, whether he liked it or not. David was in the middle, staring up at the roof, where Paul had thought it would be funny to stick some glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling one night when he was incredibly high. Mae was to his left, lying on her side, with Marko curled around her, his back to the wall. It was all rather cozy, and just being near each other began to soothe the ache in their tattered souls.

The door was locked tight against the impending dawn, but they still had an hour until sunrise. Mae's handheld radio was dangling from one of the bedposts, playing some shitty oldies station that was the only thing on this time of night. Paul was waxing poetic about something he'd seen on the beach the other day, but no one was really paying attention, not that Paul minded. He just needed to get rid of his nervous energy, and this was the easiest way to do it. He eventually drifted off into silence as the DJ played some commercials, leaving the room relatively quiet once again. The atmosphere in the room was surprisingly light, for all that they had just survived their second incredibly deadly battle in just as many months.

When some terrible love ballad began playing, Mae stirred enough to touch the side of her own neck, the movement drawing the attention of her four brothers. The skin was unblemished, but it didn't take an idiot to know that you didn't need to bite someone to turn them. Sure enough, Mae felt the front of her throat, swallowing thickly, lost in a memory. Dwayne sat up against the headboard so he could see his sister, while Paul leaned on his elbow. Marko said nothing, just letting her work through her problems in her own time. He wasn't sure how welcome his usual sarcasm would be right now. David followed Marko's lead, knowing that Mae would speak in her own time. She frowned, taking a deep (now unnecessary) breath.

"…I was supposed to be yours."

"What do you mean?" Paul murmured, scratching at his chin with his free hand.

"I wanted to be your sister in every way. I wanted David to turn me. She took that away from me." Mae rolled onto her back, looking up at the star stickers above her. "I should have made her eat her fucking heart first."

"I can't disagree with you on that one!" Paul laughed, trying to lighten the mood again. It worked a little, since Mae joined him in laughing for a minute.

"Still…" She sighed, folding her arms across her stomach. "I won't be able to hear you guys. I'd need David's blood in me."

"That's an easy fix, kid." David chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the confused death glare Mae was sending him. "Just drink some of my blood, and when you feel the connection fading, just drink some more. It's not like you're a stranger or anything."

"Oh, no, I'm _totally_ a stranger. Who are you strange and incredibly untidy young men, and what are you doing in my house?" Mae feigned a terrible British accent, clutching at her chest and pretending to swoon. "How will I ever show my face at the gala again? Four unmarried young men, in _my_ sacred virginal home!" She broke into a coughing fit, her voice breaking as she went higher and higher in pitch, until she couldn't keep it up anymore.

Hearing her brothers crack up was worth it. When she finally got her throat and lungs to cooperate again, she joined in, giggling like a madwoman until she felt the sun pull at her eyelids. Her brothers' laughter trailed off into nothingness as they too succumbed to the power of the deathless sleep.

Her last conscious thought of the night was that she would give anything to stay like this with her family, safe and happy, forever.


	22. Hungry Like The Wolf

((Hey bats and belles! It's time for that most honored of rituals, that most classic of scenes: the final rite of passage, when the girl becomes a vampire. Sure, Mae's been a Lost Boy for ages now, but will she pass her final test? Smut in the next chapter, just a heads up! Thank you to everyone who's been commenting! Life's been rough lately, and your comments are the inspiration I need to keep going with this fic! Come follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr if you haven't already. See you next chapter!))

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"I'm sorry that I cannot stay longer, Chiquita, but Los Angeles will fall into chaos if I don't make my claim immediately."

"I understand, Viejo. When things settle down, I'll come visit. I promise."

Mae and Túlio stood on the dry grass outside of her house, her brothers mingling with the Los Angeles vampires, learning names and forging the beginnings of an alliance. Many still carried their wounds from the previous night, but the amount of hunting it would take to cure them all would bring too much attention to the small town. They'd have to pick up a few meals on the way back to L.A., which shouldn't be too difficult this time of year. Everyone would still be working off their hangovers from their New Year's celebrations. Dollar Fifty had been one of the few allowed to make a kill after sunset, since his wounds were among the most grievous. The rest would have to live off of the blood bags they carried with them until they got home.

"Call me when you get there, Viejo. Let me know how things go. If you need help, I'll be there by the next nightfall, I promise." Mae held Túlio's hands in her own, her brother gripping back just as tightly.

"I will, Chiquita. If war comes to Santa Carla again, I will see to it personally that those who would hurt you and your family suffer greatly for their trespass." Túlio brought her hands up and kissed the knuckles, smiling down at his sister.

"You're a charmer as always, Túlio." Mae murmured, leaning in to wrap her arms around him. She wasn't sure when she'd see him again, although she hoped it would be under better circumstances than this. "You will always be welcome here."

'If things go wrong' was left unsaid.

"And you will always be one of us, Mae. No matter what happened in the past, you have a home with me, although I think it would take nothing less than death to part you from this place, I think." Túlio grinned, laughing quietly when Mae rolled her eyes.

"And you seem to have a new reason to stay right where you are too, hm?" Mae wiggled her eyebrows at Túlio, looking pointedly at Casper, who was staring off into space by the tree line.

"…Yes, I do." Túlio's voice was sickeningly fond, but Mae was a romantic at heart, so she let it be.

"He'll be good for you, and you for him. Keep him safe, mi hermano, and he'll keep you safe too."

"I will."

Mae kissed his cheek, then went to say her goodbyes to a few of her acquaintances in the L.A. pack. David drifted over to Túlio, the two standing side by side as they watched their people intermingle. Túlio's coven vastly outnumbered David's, of course, but Túlio knew to never underestimate the men under David's command. Even if he had been foolish enough to think they were weaklings before, which thankfully he wasn't, he wouldn't dare to make that assumption now. What they lacked in centuries of experience in battle, they made up for in sheer power and rage when their family was threatened. They would make wonderful allies.

"I'd have to get the San Francisco Council to sign off on it, but I was thinking that you could make Santa Carla a Way Station."

"A Way Station?" David took out a cigarette, offering the pack to Túlio, who declined.

"Yes. They were common in the days before automobiles. They were small encampments or towns that were designated as conflict-free zones. All vampires were allowed to pass through and rest, no matter what coven they are affiliated with. All they need to do is leave their grudges at the door and keep their kills from being too obvious. In exchange, the rulers of the Way Station would provide them with places to sleep away from the sun. The nearest densely-populated cities would back up whatever decisions the king or queen of the Way Station made, and they'd send vampires to aid them if a conflict ever arose. It's in everyone's best interest to keep the Way Stations safe."

David lit his cigarette, thinking it over. He wasn't weak, he could take care of his own city, but there were only five of them. He had no plans to expand his coven, even if it would be sound from a security standpoint. Santa Carla was on the map now, whether he wanted it to be or not. Max had kept the city something of a secret, protecting his territory with an almost feral fervor. David had killed plenty of wanderers who had overstayed their welcome in his sire's name. Having an official alliance with San Francisco and Los Angeles would give him power and status that could be useful down the line.

After all, Santa Carla was at a prime spot along the coastal route up and down California; most journeys either began or ended within easy driving distance from the city. Vampires preferred traveling up the coast since it had more hiding places than the valley route on the other side of the mountains. Too many humans took that path to make hunting easy. Due to the strange ebbs and flows of car traffic, it was a common occurrence for a vampire to become trapped when the sun rose, having to hide in the trunk of their car or somewhere even less comfortable until the daylight passed. If David were to provide a haven, he could be the first to know all the comings and goings of vampire society. He'd have knowledge, something the best minds of his kind coveted more than money and blood. Besides that, vampires were fractious by nature, so there would be plenty of occasions to indulge in a good old-fashioned fight, which would satisfy his brothers and sister well. Yes, this could work.

"…I'll think about it." He blew out a long stream of smoke. Túlio smiled. Mae had once called him to complain about David's roundabout ways of saying yes and no. This was _definitely_ a yes.

"Let me know when you make a decision, my friend. Until then, I'm afraid we must go. We need to hit the Grapevine before 3am if we want to be home before sunrise." Túlio held out his hand, which David took with all due solemnity.

"Have a safe trip." David's handshake was firm, but no claws came out. He trusted Túlio now, especially in light of the dedication the man had shown in protecting Mae.

"Thank you, David. Keep your kingdom safe, and my sister, too. If you ever need aid, my coven will answer the call."

"As will mine."

David watched Túlio walk back to his group, chuckling in amusement as Dollar Fifty picked Mae up and nearly broke her ribs with a hug. Casper was giggling next to them, leaning on Paul, who was cracking up as well. Marko sidled up next to his eldest brother, while Dwayne clapped a hand on David's shoulder. When Mae's feet finally touched the ground again, she slapped at Dollar Fifty's arm before giving Casper a hug as well. She whispered something in his ear that made the white-haired man nod solemnly. Whatever he whispered back seemed to please David's sister, since she leaned back and pecked him on the cheek. She turned to Túlio, patting both his shoulder and Casper's in approval. David would have to ask what that was all about later. With a final embrace and a sisterly kiss, Mae let Túlio go, wrapping her arm around Paul's waist as she led him back to the rest of their little pack.

Many goodbyes were shouted back at the Santa Carla vampires as the Los Angeles coven took to their trucks and bikes, the rumbling of various engines filling the night with an overwhelming noise as the caravan rolled out. Mae waved at everyone she could, only lowering her arm when the last car passed out of sight. When the sound of motors finally faded into the distance, she turned back to her brothers.

"So, what now?"

David grinned, his smile twisted with sadistic glee. Dwayne knew what David was planning instantly, his eyes flickering yellow as he prepared to change. Marko and Paul exchanged hungry looks, their mouths salivating. Mae was the last to catch on, but when she did, a smile stretched her own lips into something both fearful and beautiful.

"Now…we hunt."

* * *

It was a pretty good crowd for a Monday. The stragglers from the New Year's parties mingled with tourists who had taken an extra week off from work, filling the boardwalk with warm bodies on this cold, cold night. A storm was rolling in from the sea, but it wouldn't hit landfall until tomorrow morning, or so the weatherman said. The winds were strong enough to be felt, but not enough to drive away the people seeking a good time under the bright lights of the pier. Alcohol was flowing like someone had spiked the water fountains; finding a victim would be almost laughably easy on a night like this. Normally, David wouldn't mind it (in fact, he would welcome it after the last few months he and his family had survived), but this was a special occasion. Mae's first official hunt as a vampire should be one to remember. He still had fond memories of Paul's first hunt, when they tailed several druggies up and down the beach, taunting them and giving them false hope of escape until Paul hadn't been able to hold back anymore, swiftly ending their lives with his sharp teeth and wicked claws. Their blood had been thick with LSD, driving the boys into the best trip of their lives. Mae deserved the same thing.

Wanting to make the night special was one thing; _making_ it special was another thing entirely.

The five vampires stood under the pier, having left their bikes just outside of town after an intense ride into the city. Marko had challenged Dwayne to a race, and Mae had been screaming and hollering joyously from the back of Marko's bike, safe in the knowledge that it would take more than a crash to kill her. On any other night, Marko would've told her to can it after a while, but her glee was infectious, and soon she and Paul were having a scream-off, trying to see who could scare the most people as they made their way into town. David nearly had to break out a command to get them to shut up. Deep down, though, he was glad that they were all recovering from their traumas. They deserved a fucking break already.

Dwayne lit a cigarette, passing it over to David after he'd taken a pull. The blonde took a deep drag, offering it to Marko, who declined. Paul happily snatched it up, blowing the smoke in Mae's face. Out of reflex instead of actual pain, Mae coughed, growling at her brother before realizing that the smoke no longer caused her lungs to seize. She still tackled him to the ground, of course. It was the principle of the thing. Dwayne leaned down to save the cigarette from their childish wrestling, turning back to David as he waited for his brother to come up with a plan. Marko broke out in a cackling fit when Mae ruined Paul's hair by rubbing sand into it.

"…I saw a bonfire a mile that way…" Dwayne murmured when David said nothing. The blonde stared out at the ocean, thinking it over. It was awfully close to a repeat of the time they'd revealed themselves to Michael…but maybe that was the point. Dwayne was offering him a chance to do it right, without judgment. It was promising.

"How many?"

"Five exactly."

"Hm…" David took another drag from the cigarette before letting Dwayne take it back. "Marko?"

"Sounds good, man."

"All right, then." David nodded, looking down at his two youngest siblings. Paul had Mae pinned to the ground, but she had a handful of sand that she was just about to shove down his pants…if she could get her hand close enough, that is.

"Okay, you two. Knock it off."

Mae and Paul both groaned, reluctantly standing up again, both of them frustrated that there was no clear winner to their fight. Mae jammed her elbow into Paul's side, who returned the favor, except he hit her breast.

"Fucking hell!"

"Hey! It's not my fault they're there!"

"Okay, stop it! Fucking children, the both of you!" Dwayne growled, hauling the two of them apart by their collars before they started fighting again. Marko stifled his giggles, sharing an amused look with David.

"Play nice, kids." David grinned, raising an eyebrow when both Mae and Paul glowered at him. He shot a look at Dwayne, who dropped them to the ground. Beyond some quiet grumbling, the two of them were smart enough to keep their mouths shut this time.

"Time for dinner. Dwayne's found us a little party to crash." David licked his lips. Paul helped Mae up, the two of them dusting themselves off.

"How many?" Paul asked, his features sharpening in the moonlight.

"Five. Should be enough to keep up satisfied. We don't want to push too far just yet." David replied, tossing the cigarette stub into the sand.

"Sounds good." Mae rolled her shoulders, the bones popping with a satisfying click. "Do we need a plan, or should we just wing it?"

"…You know, for once, let's just fucking wing it." David laughed, slinging an arm around Dwayne's shoulders as they walked out from under the pier, heading away from the boardwalk.

Paul caught up with them easily, prancing along at David's unoccupied side, while Marko and Mae trailed along a few feet behind them. Mae slipped her hand into Marko's, delighted to find that his skin felt warm now that they were both among the undead. Her eyes were on the stars, her new vision letting her see them with perfect clarity. Even though they were too close to the city to see the full range of stars in the night sky, she could see more than the average human ever could. It was fascinating.

"…What are you thinking about?" Marko asked quietly, content to just let her answer the question instead of parsing things out himself.

"The stars. I'm wondering if we'll live long enough to see people live on the moon." Mae's voice was dreamy, a soft smile lingering on her face. "The way the world is, I never thought I'd see it, but maybe I will, now."

"You will, as long as the humans don't blow everything up. It'd be pretty hard to survive _that_ , even when you're a vampire." Marko laughed, the sound barely audible over the crashing of the waves. They walked in silence for a while, listening to the fading noises of the pier and the quiet conversations of their brothers.

"...Are you worried?" Marko asked. He didn't need to elaborate any further.

"No."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at his girlfriend, who still had her eyes trained on the stars. "Not even a little bit?"

"Marko, I killed several men just yesterday, and before that, I led dozens of people to their doom just so my friends could have a midnight snack." She finally tore her gaze away from the sky, turning instead to level her boyfriend with a knowing look. "You worried I'll choke at the last second?"

"Kind of." Marko knew that lying would only make things worse. He didn't mean to antagonize his girlfriend, but he needed to be sure.

"Don't worry about it. I'm an old hand at this. Besides, I never liked the kind of idiot that would have a bonfire in the middle of the night on the beach of the most dangerous town in the fucking world." Mae shrugged. She kicked a rock that lay in her path, watching it skid ahead a few feet. "…You don't need to worry about me, Marko. I'm in this for life, however long that is. Whatever qualms I may have had died long ago. This is my home, Marko. _You_ are my home. I'm no going anywhere."

Marko said nothing, instead drawing her closer, his arm around her waist as the light of a fire grew in the distance.

* * *

Several feet from the bonfire were the remnants of an ancient rockslide, the cliffs jagged and strangely sloped where the rocks had broken away from the overhang. The weather-beaten rocks provided the perfect cover for the vampires, giving them a moment to observe their prey. The five Surf Nazis were listening to what had to something vaguely resembling The Rolling Stones, but their stereo was so old and battered that the music kept cutting out half the time. David felt Mae sidle up beside him, silent as the breeze at their backs. It was a good thing that humans had such a terrible sense of smell, otherwise their cover would be blown in an instant. She licked her lips, overwhelmed by the scent of sweaty, warm flesh. It wasn't the most pleasant of smells, but it triggered something in her animal mind that screamed of food, like a hot plate of rare meat. It was mouth-wateringly good.

"David…" She whispered, biting at her lower lip, just waiting for the signal to pounce. The others were grinning with feral glee to see her chomping at the bit; it was such a wonderful difference from the last time they'd been in this position. David raised an eyebrow at his sister, waiting until she met his gaze.

"Are you ready, little sister?"

"Born ready."

"That's what I like to hear. Go get 'em, tiger."

With a pleased little sound, Mae did just that, only…not in the way David thought she would: instead of going straight in for the kill, Mae climbed down the rocks with vampiric grace and simply walked towards the Surf Nazis, as casually as you pleased.

Normally, a fledgling would immediately run at their prey, tearing them apart within seconds. Marko had done that very thing, despite his normally calculating ways, and Paul had nearly made a dash for the pier once he'd killed his first meal. Only Dwayne had been more reserved, and that was only because Max had been there to keep him in line. David had been savage too, but he'd made his first kills in the middle of nowhere, so there'd been no danger of being discovered then. He'd actually kind of hoped Mae would let loose, but this…this was far more satisfying to watch. He kept the others back when they expressed their confusion.

"Let her take the lead, boys. This should be interesting."

Mae tossed a look over her shoulder, having heard David's words despite the other noises clamoring in her ears. She threw a wink at her hidden family before turning back to her quarry. The Surf Nazis all froze when they saw her coming, her hips swaying to whatever beats clawed their way out of the ancient stereo. She'd dressed to the nines for the occasion: a low-cut top and tight pants with winklepicker boots, forgoing a jacket to leave her shoulders bare to the wind. In contrast, the Surf Nazis were dressed warmly, which should have been the first sign that something wasn't right with their new guest, but Surf Nazis wouldn't be Surf Nazis if they had any brains. Mae sent them a disarming smile, walking up to the nearest one, a hulking brute that was more muscle than man.

"Hey there, big guy."

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here, baby?" The man grinned, his mohawk drooping a little in the salty sea breeze.

"Looking for a good time."

"Well, you found one right here!" One of his companions called out, a skinny little thing with track marks all up and down his arms.

"Oh? That's great!" Mae giggled, rocking back and forth on her heels like an excited schoolgirl. "There's just one little problem…"

"What's that?" Muscle man asked, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

"You're not invited!" Mae snarled, her face contorting into something monstrous as she grabbed the muscled one by the neck, her claws sinking into his skin as she pulled him down so their faces were mere centimeters apart.

"Boo!" She whispered. The man screamed, only for it to be cut off when Mae ripped out his throat with her teeth, guzzling down the blood that poured out. The other Surf Nazis were frozen in fear, watching in mute horror as Mae drained her prey. When there was nothing left, she let the body fall to the ground, her lips stained red and her eyes wild with feral glee.

"Hey booooys! Time for dinner!"

The humans screamed as Mae's brothers flew down from the rocks, their fangs out for the feast.

* * *

Mae perched delicately on the nearest rock, licking the blood from her fingers while her brothers finished their meals. Paul was tossing the last body onto the fire when David broke away from the others, sitting next to her. They sat in silence for several moments, watching the others clean up the mess they'd made of the Surf Nazi's camp. One had nearly managed to make it to their truck before Dwayne had tackled him onto the sand, tearing his body apart with an intense hunger. Luckily, the tide would clear away most of the dried blood, so all they had to do was make sure that the bodies were destroyed before leaving. Marko and Paul were picking through the tapes inside someone's backpack, discarding the ones they didn't like and pocketing the few that they did. Mae finished cleaning herself off, stretching out like the cat that got the cream.

"You're one of us now." David murmured, pulling out a cigarette.

"Wasn't I always?" Mae replied, taking the lighter from him and flicking it open. She held it out for him, watching as the cherry lit up.

"You were, in a way, but this was always going to be the final test." He took a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out in a slow, steady stream. "I've had people back out before."

"Michael?"

"Yeah. And a few others, before Dwayne."

"You're usually such a good judge of character. I'm surprised." Mae laughed when David glowered at her. There was still blood on her chin, the red liquid staining her skin all the way down to her chest.

"Even the best can be wrong sometimes."

"Not anymore, I hope." Mae took the cigarette from him, frowning as she looked it over. She put it to her lips and took a drag, the smoke burning pleasantly as it passed down her throat. Her eyes closed as she let it linger in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. It was a warm sensation, but the taste still wasn't to her liking. It reminded her too much of the acrid ash that formed when a vampire truly died. She passed it back to him, opening her eyes when he took it back.

"Not for you?"

"Nah. Not for me."

"…"

"You still can't smoke inside."

"I can do whatever I want." David purred.

"Not in _my_ house, David. Rules are still rules." Mae challenged him, her smile making it playful instead of serious. David sighed, but let it go. Now wasn't the time for arguing.

"Fine. With the window open."

"Good boy."

They were interrupted before David could shove her off the rock, which was probably a good thing. The other three ambled over, just as bloody as their sister, except they hadn't bothered to clean up even a little bit. Paul's hair was still a bit matted from the sand fight he'd had with Mae, but now there was blood staining the ends like a sticky dye job. Mae's eyes were instantly drawn to Marko, who looked like someone had painted the blood on his face with an artist's eye, rather than it being the result of a messy meal. Her tongue moved without her knowledge as she licked her lips, hungry for a different kind of feast. Dwayne caught her look and rolled his eyes, smacking Marko upside the head when the blonde returned her lascivious gaze with a wink. Paul gagged, which broke Mae out of her trance.

"Save it for home, guys. You're gonna make me barf!" Paul groaned, drawing a laugh out of David and Dwayne. Mae and Marko glowered at him, the latter pulling Mae up off of her seat to bring her in for a lecherous kiss. David let Paul bum his cigarette in consolation.

"Come on. Let's get back. I'm in the mood for a beer right about now." David stood and brushed himself off, climbing up the rocks to get a good jumping off point for the flight back to their bikes. With all the blood they were sporting, they couldn't make their way back to their rides by walking.

The others followed wordlessly, although Marko kept close to his girlfriend, helping her out with her first real flight. The sensation of being weightless was amazing, and it was all she could do to keep from whooping with the same joy she'd felt earlier driving through the empty streets. They landed without incident just outside of town, eager to get home and get clean. It was amazing what a few months had done to their habits; they'd have spent the next several hours covered in gore before hopping into the ocean for a quick dip before sunrise. Now, though, they didn't quite feel right until they'd, at the very least, changed clothes and toweled off. Mae was a better influence on them than Max could ever have been. He shouldn't have been trying so hard to get them a mother; he should have been trying to get them a _sister_.

The ride home was quiet, the five of them sated enough that they felt like kids after Thanksgiving dinner, ready to relax while their "food" digested. Dwayne took the upstairs bath, while David and Paul grabbed a beer before heading to the laundry room to change. For once, David let Paul go first, since his hair was still a fucking mess. Marko and Mae went upstairs to her room, closing the door and turning on the radio in an attempt to be polite. They both laughed when David Essex started playing; it was like a repeat of their first time together. Mae slipped her arms around Marko's waist, pulling him down into a deep kiss as they stumbled into the bathroom.

Getting clean was the last thing on their minds.


	23. Use Your Love Tonight

((Hello my lovelies! Here's the penultimate chapter, with an epilogue to follow shortly! I hope you enjoyed this crazy ride with me, and I hope you stick around for the sequel! I'm an artist by trade, so I'll make some art for the sequel so you can see everyone's outfits, because I'm a costume fanatic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the schmoopyness of this chapter (is that even a word?) because I sure did! I love romance, if you couldn't tell already. Please tell me what you think! As always, your comments mean the world to me, so I hope you have some time to send me a line! Life's been tough, so your encouragement is always appreciated! If you haven't already, please follow me at unchainmesister on tumblr! Thanks guys!))

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By the time the shower was running, their frantic kissing had calmed down into something vaguely resembling gentle caresses, although their bodies were still singing with the rush of the hunt. Their clothes fell into disorganized heaps in front of the sink, neither of them wanting to break their kisses long enough to neaten things up. Marko stepped into the shower, offering his hand to Mae as he helped her inside, drawing the curtain shut behind her. That small, momentary break was enough time for them to finally take a breath and gather themselves, the two of them taking a moment to just gaze at each other. The blood on Mae's neck was slowly washing away, the water wetting her hair and loosening the dried ichor. She beckoned Marko closer, moving out of the way so he could let the shower start to melt away the blood caked on his face and neck. He felt her body lean against his as he let the shower wet his hair, so he slipped an arm around her shoulders to keep her close. His lips twitched up in a smile when he felt her sigh against him, her arms wrapping loosely around his waist.

The little radio in the corner of the room switched from David Essex to Depeche Mode. Marko caught hints of a male voice singing about seeing his lover stripped down to the bone, the words echoing off the tiled walls. He'd heard the song plenty of times before; it was one of Mae's favorites, and he suspected that she had a sentimental attachment to it, probably because it had been playing when they'd had sex after their first fight with The Rogues. Mae was quietly singing along with the lyrics, although he didn't think she knew she was doing it. It was oddly endearing.

Marko let them wallow in the moment a little longer before grabbing the shampoo and silently maneuvering Mae back under the spray, washing her hair for her without being asked. His girlfriend said nothing, but he could feel the pleased happiness radiating from her mind. They switched places once he was done, Mae taking care of Marko the same way he'd taken care of her. It was gentle. Domestic. Warm.

Frighteningly romantic.

As if Mae could sense his sudden change in mood, her fingers stilled in his hair, but within a few seconds she was back to rinsing the last of the soap from his scalp. She didn't say anything until she was finished, her hands smoothing across his neck and chest as they washed away the last traces of blood from his skin.

"кохана…" She whispered, startling Marko from his reverie.

"…What did you say?" He murmured, finally opening his eyes. Her accent was terrible, but it was a fair approximation of his pronunciation.

"кохана. You said that to me yesterday, after I killed The Widow. I couldn't understand what you were saying, but that word kept coming up, over and over again. What language was that, anyway?" Mae asked quietly, focusing on running her thumb along his collarbone, where a stubborn clot of dried blood clung to his skin. Her words were hesitant; he hadn't said anything to her about his restrained breakdown yet, and she was afraid that he was either embarrassed by it or he hadn't meant to do it in the first place.

"…"

Marko was silent for long enough that Mae was about to take back her question. Then he slid one hand up her arm, resting it on her neck as his thumb traced her jawline.

"кохана." He rubbed gentle circles beneath her ear as he spoke, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Something in his chest clenched when he saw the worry and uncertainty in her gaze.

"It's Ukrainian. My mother was Ukrainian, and I learned it just to spite her. She was so desperate to assimilate that she spent years getting rid of her accent. She didn't want me to learn it at all, since it was so 'un-American'. A few of the old ladies in the cul-de-sac were also from the motherland, so they taught me. I don't use it that often, since I only ever really talk to you guys, and no one understands it but me."

Mae nodded, leaning into his hand, but the confusion remained in her furrowed brow. Marko took a moment to really look at his girlfriend, to analyze all that he'd catalogued about her over the months they'd shared together. She was as stubborn as an ox, unmoving and so sure of herself, or so it seemed. Mae could be vindictive and brutal, but with her family, she was almost nothing but kind and caring and gentle, even when she teased them or traded insults with her brothers and her lover. She knew far more about the vampire world than anyone else in the house. She was intelligent and unafraid to show it; she was the only one of them with a college education, her mind sharpened by the kind of classical training only a university could offer. Mae had grown up with a chip on her shoulder and all the disadvantages life could throw at her, lost in a system that chewed her up and spit her out as soon as it could. She'd had to fight for what little she possessed, unable to rely on the support of anyone but herself.

She was tough, hardened by a life robbed of what was rightfully hers by birth, but underneath, she was vulnerable…and she let him see it. She opened herself up to his gaze when she knew that he could very well use it against her. He _had_ used it against her, time and time again, pushing at the edges of her defenses when it pleased him, but as time progressed, he began feeling guilty about it. Marko wasn't used to feeling ashamed, but whenever he'd rejected her more tender overtures, or changed the subject when it became too romantically inclined, he could see it chipping away at her. Only her eyes ever showed it, the depth of wounds he so carelessly inflicted. It was who he was, though, wasn't it? Cruel and clever and cutting, always picking people apart and rarely bothering to put them back together again. His brothers were used to it by now, although David's authority often tempered his ruthless tendencies around them. She wouldn't make him soft. He wouldn't let her, he'd told himself over and over again.

Now, though…he _wanted_ to be soft. Just for her. Alone, like this.

Marko bit his lip, still absently tracing across Mae's skin. He could feel her sluggish heartbeat underneath his fingertips, that instinctive ability for a vampire to find a pulse kicking in without conscious thought. The fact that it was beating at all showed that she was nervous, treading the edge of a line she wasn't even sure was there. Maybe it was unkind to keep her waiting there, but if he was truly going to say what he wanted to say, he needed to make sure that he meant it.

He'd heard once that love doesn't make you someone different; it just takes the best parts of you and makes them stronger. Where Mae was immovable, he was changeable, prone to playing all sides just to see what happened. He didn't try to stop or change the chaos, he just liked watching it play out and studying the results. He found joy in tearing things apart, not in fixing the broken pieces. Oh, sure, he could fix things, but where was the fun in that? The only things he ever repaired were the bikes out in the shed, and even that was more because they didn't talk back to him or have stupid opinions. People were interesting only until you dug down to the heart of them, and once you had your solution, they were worthless. He'd clawed his way inside of Mae, but once there, he found only acceptance and love. Cliché as it sounded, she would tear her own heart out for him if it made him happy. Once upon a time, it might have. Now, though, he knew he'd stop her before she could finish the job, before her nails could do more damage to her flesh. He'd cut his own wrist to pour his blood over the gouges, sealing them shut without ever looking inside them. And he would be happy.

Maybe, just maybe, there was joy in healing the wounds.

Motorcycles can't smile. Cars don't wrap their arms around you. Machines have no soul.

Sometimes, people showed you what made them tick, just for the asking.

"кохана. It means 'beloved'."

* * *

When Mae had first met the men who would become her family, she would be the first to admit that she was instantly attracted to all of them. How could she not be? On top of them just being naturally gorgeous, it was in a vampire's nature to enthrall those around them, whether it was with perceived beauty or an animal magnetism. Even those who had been turned at an age where they were no longer considered physically desirable still radiated a charisma that made mortals follow them to the edge of the cliffs and beyond. Her boys were a wondrous mix of beautiful features and feral charm, even when they were at their most relaxed. Over time, she'd come to know them as people, and the stars that clouded her eyes when she looked at them began to fade away. Paul became her best friend, as vital to her life as breath and sunlight, bringing an effervescent light to any room he entered. Dwayne became her big brother, calming and soothing and fiercely protective, offering her protection without judging her as weak or needy. David was something unnamed, a strange mix of brother and friend and object of lust, but despite the tension that often bubbled up between them, she knew she could count on him to solve her problems if she asked, their trust in each other undeniable now.

Marko, though…

The glamor had never really worn off when it came to Marko. Sure, she'd seen to the heart of him, but she still had to fight the urge to blush whenever he looked her way, even to this day. He had the kind of face Grecian sculptors would have killed to use as a model, and his impish smiles were at once gleeful and wicked. Marko had mastered the look of innocent debauchery, his smiles and eyes making you want to protect him, even though you knew he could kill you in an instant. He was definitely attractive. When he'd stepped out of the bathroom naked all those months ago, trying to throw her off and push her buttons, she'd been hard pressed to not let him have the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. Marko was beautifully built, less muscular than Dwayne, but more toned than Paul or David. She'd wanted to stop and admire him, but she refused to lose the games he'd tried to play with her when he'd first moved in. Their prank wars had been short, but epic, and she still felt like she'd gotten the last laugh when David had finally had to put his foot down and end the cold war before things got out of hand.

More than his body, though, she admired his mind. People might seem simple, but even the most honest of men held secrets beneath their skin. Mae counted herself as a good judge of character these days, after living with Túlio and the Los Angeles coven for all those years, but she wasn't anywhere near Marko's level of breaking people down and finding their component parts. She still wasn't quite sure how he did it, but Marko could tell if someone was lying or telling the truth just by the way they fidgeted, or if they knew more than they were telling just by how they stood. People weren't always people to him; they were puzzle boxes to be opened to find the hidden treasures inside. Granted, most people held nothing but junk inside their souls, but the game was still fun. She was picking things up, and they would often sit side by side on the pier, judging everyone who wandered past them in the days before things truly went to hell. Where she was emotional, he was analytical, cold to the core when she was nothing but fire and brimstone. They balanced each other, and she coveted that balance more than any kind of physical fulfillment. He understood her, and she understood him, or so she thought. He'd looked into her soul and hadn't found her lacking, or had he?

It was hard to know, and that was slowly but surely breaking her into pieces.

Mae loved him. There was no doubt about that. For all his moments of exquisite cruelty, she had seen momentary flashes of something gentle and kind, even sweet. His eyes were expressive when he allowed them to be, melting from something icy to warm and adoring whenever they were alone. When they were in the living room watching TV, he would make sure that they were touching. Sometimes it was just their hands entwined together, while other times he would pull her onto his lap and hold her close. The latter was rare, only happening when they were alone, but it wasn't uncommon for Marko's arm to find its way around her shoulders or waist whenever they were together. Walking down the pier was an exercise in balance for Mae, since she'd had to learn to walk with the added weight of her boyfriend's firm grip on her waist. He was tactile, and she was touch-starved. Even the smallest of caresses would warm her from the inside, and she had an inkling that he knew that.

Still, he never stated his affections out loud, and it was beginning to wear at her heart. Yes, he'd kept his promise of communicating with her, telling her the few times he'd wanted to fuck a victim before drinking them dry, but that had only happened once or twice before the ordeal with The Widow and her mind control. They'd considered taking someone home to share, too, and Mae had made out with a pretty girl behind the carousel while Marko watched from the shadows once. Neither had felt jealous, and it was fun to spice things up every now and then. So yes, they talked, but it wasn't about what she _really_ wanted to talk about.

She knew he had a thing against tradition, and she couldn't blame him, if tradition had made his home life so unbearable as a child. Mae, however, had lacked tradition and ceremony as a child, even when she'd had a relatively stable foster home as a young girl. She craved it, that romantic notion of making promises with your lover someplace secluded, whispering words of loyalty and passion so softly that even the gods couldn't hear them. She wanted a declaration, even if it was just a simple 'I love you', that she could treasure. Mae had expected one from Veronica back when she'd still been a naïve little thing floundering around in her first relationship, and she'd been crushed to learn that it was all for nothing. Marko would never hurt her that way, but he _had_ hurt her, cutting too deep during their verbal spars, taking it one step too far when she thought he knew better. He apologized, and things were getting better, boundaries were found and respected, but even after all this, he still refused to say anything. She loved him as he was, but surely that hint of warmth she'd seen had been more than just an act, right?

Was she alone in her feelings? Was it just not his way? Was he incapable of saying his feelings out loud, if he had any at all?

Mae pondered this as she washed the blood from her boyfriend's collarbone, taking a moment to marvel at how quickly his skin warmed underneath the hot spray of the shower. She loved him. He made her laugh, made her think, he held her when the darkness had been too much to bear, he'd fought like a wild thing to keep her safe. He made her see new possibilities, new ways of thinking, coaxing her out of her stubbornly set ways, while she found pleasure in being his grounding presence, bringing him back down from his multitude of schemes and analyses, telling him to quiet his mind and focus on the now instead of constantly calculating the odds. Yes, she loved him. Perhaps now was the time for her to be the one to take the risk, to cut to the heart of things. She was afraid, afraid to initiate what could be the end of the best thing she'd ever had, but Mae was never one to back down from a fight. And so, she began.

"кохана…" She whispered.

* * *

"кохана. It means 'beloved'."

Mae froze, her fingers twitching at her sides. She hadn't noticed her hands falling from Marko's shoulders, nor that he was still caressing her skin. The revelation of what кохана meant halted her ability to function, or so it seemed. Her eyes blinked slowly as she turned Marko's words over and over in her mind, testing them on her tongue, whispering 'beloved' so quietly that it was lost to the patter of water on tile. Finally, she managed to shake out of her reverie, her eyes meeting his once again.

"Beloved?" Her voice was tremulous, uncertain.

"Yes. Beloved. Darling. Sweetheart. My love." Marko's left hand moved to join his right in stroking along her jaw, tugging her closer. "кохана. It means all of those things. And I mean them when I say it."

"Marko…" Mae was at a loss for words, her fingers moving up to clutch at his wrists.

"I'm sorry I haven't said it before. I've known how you've felt for ages now. When I realized that you loved me, I was frightened. I didn't know what to do with it. I'd never been in love before, and it was all so… _overwhelming_ that I shut myself off. I wanted to run, Mae, but I couldn't, 'cause the only thing worse than feeling so fucking terrified was the thought of being without you." He swiped his thumb over her lips, silencing whatever she was about to say in response.

"You _do_ something to me, Mae. You make me want things that I never cared about before. I thought I had everything figured out, that I knew who I was, and then you come along and suddenly I want to bend over backwards for you, to do anything that'll make you happy, even if it's something I don't want to do, because making you smile would be reason enough to do it. I thought I was changing, losing myself, and instead of stopping to think about it, I just kept pushing it away. I was only thinking about myself, like I always had, but you were still there, waiting for me to get my shit together." Marko growled, angry with himself now that he was finally admitting everything out loud. This could have been said and done so long ago if he'd only taken a fucking second to think things through.

"And then the fight with The Rogues happened, and you were so goddamn beautiful. You fought like it was second nature, like you already one of us in every way. You knew _exactly_ what I was planning, and when we won, I wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there, damn everyone else. But when we got home, I pushed you away again. The adrenaline wore off, and I realized that we were vulnerable again, just you and me. You were gentle, and I'm not used to gentle, Mae. I never wanted it before. I _hate_ being coddled. So I was cruel. And even though the night ended well, now that I know what you were going through, that you knew what was going to happen, I just hate myself more for putting you through that. I wasn't ready to admit it yet, but I could have been kinder about it." He sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I didn't know, Mae. I should have been the first to see it, that you were bound by something beyond our power, but things were finally going right, and I didn't stop to look. You see, I don't _need_ to see inside of you, to take you apart piece by piece and examine everything like I do with everyone else, because it's already out there. You show me everything here…" He swiped his thumbs under her eyes. "…and here…" He kissed her lips softly.

"All I need to do is look, and it's there. I don't even need to ask, and you tell me everything. For once, I don't mind the lack of a challenge. You challenge me in other ways, and it's fascinating. Just knowing that if I asked you to tear open your chest for me, you'd do it in a second, is enough. More than enough, more than I could ever ask for. The fact that you'd trust me so readily, so deeply, is overwhelming, especially since I know I'd do the same for you now. I _am_ doing it now. Mae, I'm open, just ask, I'd do anything for you. I'll kill for you. I'll beg for you. I'll change myself for you. And you know why I'd do all that for you?"

"…Why?" Mae whispered, her eyes wide.

"Because I know you would never ask me to." Marko laughed softly, resting their foreheads together. "Because I love you, and that's enough."

He worried, just for a moment, if that would make sense to her. She knew his history, his fears of conforming to someone else's desires. He knew hers, her desperation for something stable and romantic, and not once had she ever asked it of him, to bare his heart and offer it on a silver platter to be destroyed or sheltered.

It had to be freely given, or not at all. And she'd never asked.

"That's all I've ever wanted, Marko. That's all I've ever wanted." Mae whispered back, her giggles joining his incredulous laughter. To an outsider, they'd look mad, and maybe they were, but it was enough.

More than enough, really.

* * *

By the time they'd stepped out of the shower, over an hour had passed. They could faintly hear the sounds of their brothers shuffling around the house: two of them were downstairs with the TV on while one was in the secret room rummaging through a box. They'd spent several long minutes just lazily toweling off, trading soft kisses and thoroughly awed looks. While they'd never admit it to anyone else, the moment had been utterly sweet and unhurried, the kind of thing you'd expect from a cheesy movie, not real life. Still, they'd enjoyed it, and that's what mattered. Mae groaned as she laid back on the bed, stretching out, her damp hair fanning out on the pillow beneath her. She didn't bother putting on clothes, instead wallowing in the luxury of being naked with nowhere to go anytime soon. Marko joined her, slipping his arm around her shoulders so he could tug her closer, their mouths meeting in the middle. The little radio in the corner of the room was quietly playing some soft rock station, the kind Mae used to listen to whenever sleep evaded her at night. The atmosphere was calm and soothing, even as the heat slowly began returning between the two lovers.

Mae moaned quietly when she felt Marko roll her onto her back, one of his legs slipping between hers. She bucked her hips against his thigh, their tongues dancing languidly as the delicious friction sent shivers up down her spine. Marko's hands slid down to her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples with slow, steady circles. In return, she tangled her right hand in his hair, tugging gently as her left hand trailed down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. Little whimpers escaped her lips as Marko expertly tormented her with touches that lacked enough pressure to truly satisfy her. Impatience welled up in the pit of her stomach, and she growled when Marko's hands left her breasts, only to settle at her hips as he continued their slow kisses. With a small huff of effort, she hooked her leg around his waist and flipped them over, quickly straddling his chest and pinning him down to the bed. Marko's pleased cackle did nothing to calm her frustration.

"Too slow." She bit out, grinding their hips together as she leaned down for a hard, biting kiss.

Marko returned it with equal fervor, always up for a rough tumble, but he managed to quell the ferocity lingering in his lover's kiss after several long moments, wanting to take things just a little bit slower. Tonight was for savoring, at least some of the time. When Mae broke the kiss many minutes later, she seemed to realize that she hadn't needed to breathe the entire time. She let out a small chuckle at the thought, leaning back to push her hair back over her shoulder.

"What's so funny?" Marko grinned, his hands gripping her hips as he tried to guide her up so he could slide into her.

"I don't have to breathe anymore. We could literally kiss for hours now!" She laughed, although it broke into a deep, husky moan when Marko's cock finally slid inside of her.

"Yeah…but maybe we could try that later?" Marko winked, snickering when Mae glared down at him.

"You little shit!" Mae huffed, although the fact that she was rocking into his shallow thrusts destroyed any potential threat behind her words. She rolled her eyes when Marko just licked his lips and winked again.

"Yours, though. Always." He murmured, planting his feet so he could lean up to kiss her.

"…Yeah…" Mae gasped, mewling when Marko's cock rubbed against her core in just the right way. Speaking suddenly became the last thing on her mind.

With an impish smile, Marko lay back again, letting Mae set her own pace for the moment. His girlfriend's head tilted backwards as she rolled her hips, just grinding down onto his cock in smooth, sinuous motions. She was a sight to behold, her hair tangled from the shower, her skin strangely smooth now that she was immortal, her cheeks flushed from her recent meal. He bit his lip, watching how her breasts bounced as her pace picked up, and he couldn't resist thrusting upwards to meet her halfway, grinning in triumph when a surprised shout tore itself from her throat. She cried out her pleasure without a second thought, probably scarring their brothers for life if they hadn't already booked it out of the house for the night. Who gave a shit, though?

Mae's hands tangled in her hair as she rode her lover, his length reaching places in her she'd forgotten were there, her hidden sweet spots coming to life as they fucked. She forced her eyes open, only to moan long and loud at the almost feral expression on her lover's face. Marko looked deliciously wild, focused solely on chasing his pleasure, fucking up into her like he'd paid for it. Deep down, she knew that he was taking care of her too, but the idea that she was just being used was an arousing one. She held the fantasy in her mind as her orgasm built closer and closer to the edge, but when she heard Marko's soft little moans grow into deep, dark growls, she suddenly wanted something entirely different.

"Wait…" She gasped, feeling a surge of affection for the man beneath her when Marko immediately stopped, their eyes meeting as he checked to make sure she was all right.

"What is it?" His voice trembled as he held back, and fuck, she loved him.

"I…I want to be in your arms…wh-when I cum…" Mae managed to force the words out, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment making them stick in her throat.

Marko's expression softened into something Mae now knew was adoration, and he pulled her down into a deep, searing kiss before flipping them over, settling between her legs like they were made to fit him.

"Anything, babe. Anything." He whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her as he rocked into her, sucking a bruise into her neck, claiming her for his own.

"Yes…like that…" Mae gasped, mewling loudly as his thrusts grew deeper and deeper, bringing her soaring back to the edge in what felt like mere seconds.

Mae wrapped her legs around Marko's waist, her nails scratching down his back as she held on for dear life, crying out in pleasure. Marko's mouth found hers, the two trading breathless kisses as they both felt their climaxes approaching. A tight, sharp heat coiled in the pit of his stomach, fuck, he was so close! He moved one hand out from under Mae's shoulders, teasing her clit with expert motions, eager to see her cum. Mae's hand slipped into his hair, tugging sharply, and he broke away to watch his lover as she finally tipped over the edge.

"Marko!" Mae screamed, her eyes squeezed shut as the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had tore through her body, nearly making her black out from the pleasure.

The feeling of his lover's walls tightening around his cock pushed Marko over the edge just seconds later, his own soft cry of Mae's name almost lost among her whimpers, although he knew she could hear him.

It felt like hours had passed by the time they came up from their pleasure-induced haze, although in reality they knew it had only been minutes at most. Marko's head was pillowed on Mae's chest as he absently traced spirals into her skin while Mae ran her fingers through his hair, gently working out the tangles when her fingers got caught in them. It was quiet and peaceful and damn near perfect. No specters of doom hung over their heads now that all their immediate enemies were defeated, dead and buried in every sense of the word. They could sense their brothers out in the yard; they'd probably moved out there once the screaming had started, and the thought drew a quiet laugh from Mae's lips.

Marko looked up at his girlfriend, smiling softly even though he had no idea what she was thinking. Now that she was a vampire, he couldn't hear her thoughts or read her emotions the way he could with a mortal, and the fact that someone other than David had sired her meant that they wouldn't have the familial connection he shared with his brothers. Sure, once Mae began drinking David's blood regularly, they'd be able to hear each other again, but he hated The Widow for taking that away from them all, the easy connection gifted to those who shared blood on every level. Still, it would be interesting to see how David handled her now that there was no way for his powers of command to influence her. It would make her a grounding, stabilizing force, since he couldn't just order her silence when her opinions didn't match his own, but it would also lead to outrageous fights, Marko was sure of it. _That_ would be entertaining.

For her part, Mae wasn't worried about such things for the moment, content to just bask in the moment. Outside of this room, even among the ones they trusted above all else, neither Marko nor Mae ever completely let their walls down, too used to fending for themselves to do otherwise. There were things you didn't share with family, even if you knew that they'd keep your secrets and carry them to the final grave. But your beloved, on the other hand… _they_ could be trusted with everything that you were and are and ever would be, without fear of judgment. They knew that now. Marko had finally let himself be vulnerable with her, and it was a gift she'd treasure forever. In return, she would respect his needs, never asking, just waiting, because they both knew that if Mae really needed something from him, he'd give it without question. That kind of trust was rare and precious, the kind of thing you sheltered with a jealous fervor. Mae had dreamed about such a love, and although Marko certainly wasn't a prince from a fairytale, he was something better, something _real_.

"What are you thinking of?" Marko whispered, shifting further up the bed so he could draw her into his arms.

"You." Mae replied, nuzzling into his neck. She felt him tuck her head under his chin, his hand returning to stroking lazy circles along her spine.

"Good things, I hope."

"Only the best, my love."

"…My love…" Marko tested the endearment on his tongue. He liked how it sounded when Mae said it, soft and quiet and secret, just for them, but he didn't care for the way it sounded with his voice.

"…Say it again."

"My love?"

"No, the other one."

"кохана." Marko breathed, burying his face in her hair. Yes, that was it. The perfect endearment, something he could say in return, something private that no one else would understand except for Mae.

"Yeah, that one." Mae grinned, kissing his neck.

"кохана." Marko purred, tugging the covers over the both of them, even though they didn't need them. It was nice. It felt oddly domestic, and he rather liked it, not that he'd ever admit it out loud. He was pretty sure Mae knew, though. She always did.

"Now I just need one for you…" Mae sighed, halfway between dozing and outright sleep.

"You could call me just about anything and I'd probably like it." Marko laughed, content to just watch the shadows on the wall while Mae rested.

"Sugar." Mae teased, giggling into his chest.

"No."

"Sweetheart?"

"Hell no."

"Honey bear?"

"That's it, I'm fucking dumping your ass."

There was laughter for a few moments before they both lapsed back into silence. Down in the yard, someone turned on a stereo, and Paul whooped and hollered along to Twisted Sister. Mae thought she heard David laughing, but she wasn't too sure of it. Everything inside of the house was quiet, save for the little radio still playing rock ballads on her desk. Marko was just about to doze off himself when Mae finally spoke, her tone serious.

"Darling."

"Darling?"

"I've always liked the sound of it. 'Darling'. I know it's a bit old-fashioned, but it makes me think of old movies when the happy ending comes and the music swells and everyone's smiling. It's something special. _You're_ something special. I mean, if you don't like it, I won't use it, but…yeah." Mae trailed off, realizing that she was babbling.

"You really like it that much?"

"Yeah. Maybe not for everyday stuff, but…it has the same meaning for me that кохана has for you."

"…You know all you have to do is ask, right?" Marko whispered.

"You know I wouldn't ask." Mae replied, feeling the echo of their earlier conversation reverberate in her mind.

"And that's why I'd let you. I want you to, if it makes you happy."

For a moment, there was silence. And then…

"Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, кохана."

* * *

Outside, the moon hung low in the sky, bright and big and beautiful. Four had become five. A house became a home. The war had been fought and won. Life had settled into something normal once again.

And everything was all right.


	24. Epilogue

((Here it is, guys! The epilogue you've all be waiting for! (I hope lol!) As I've said, there's a sequel in the works, so please stay tuned! I hope to get the first chapter out within a week, and I'll also have some side stories going too. Let me know what you think, please! As always, comments feed my desert-dry soul, so please keep them coming! Thank you for always supporting me! For the last time for this fic, here we go!))

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 _One Year Later_

 _Santa Carla_

 _New Year's Eve, 1989_

"Come on, guys! Wake up! I've got something to show you!"

Mae's voice echoed in the little room as she all but kicked the door down, ignoring Paul's groans and Dwayne's grumbled curses. David was already awake, although he didn't appreciate the rather loud and enthusiastic shouting either.

"What's got your panties in a twist, kid?" David glowered at the brunette, watching with muted amusement as she literally dragged Paul out of bed and pushed him towards the chest of clothes the blonde kept in the corner.

"I've got a surprise for you, but if you're gonna be like that, I can just leave you guys here to get drunk by yourselves." Mae sniffed, looking down her nose at her eldest brother. The mention of a surprise perked the other two up, though, and Paul paused halfway through pulling on his pants to glance up at his sister.

"What kind of surprise?" He grinned, secretly hoping for a party.

"Something nice, and that's all I'm telling you until we get there." Mae stuck her tongue out at him before literally skipping out of the room.

The three brothers shared baffled looks before shrugging and getting dressed. When Mae was in this good of a mood, you just went with it. Usually, things went well.

Usually.

* * *

There was a cheerful silence between the five as they drove down the empty roads near Mae's house. A few months ago, Mae had been delighted to discover that she'd saved enough money for a cheap, rickety old pickup truck, big enough to seat three in the cabin and two more on the bed. Even though Túlio had given her a rather large sum of money not long after The Widow Debacle, as he called it, Mae still preferred to buy things on her own. Maybe someday she'd start spending what David had later learned to be over $5,000,000 (and wasn't that a surprise, to learn that Mae's first brother was now so rich as Lord of Los Angeles that giving away millions of dollars meant nothing to him), Mae's independent streak wouldn't be satisfied unless she earned the money for her first car herself. David wouldn't have minded a better car, if he had to ride in a car at all, but the smile on her face when she'd come home with the damn thing was too endearing to ruin. Fuck, he was getting soft.

Paul usually sat in the back, eager to feel the wind in his hair as they drove along on those rare nights that they left their bikes behind. Dwayne or Marko usually rode with him in the back, sometimes together when the air was warm and the breeze just right. Mae was the only one with a license, and it was easier to avoid the cops on a motorcycle than it was in a truck, so she always drove. David always sat in the front, riding shotgun so he could keep an eye out for danger. It had the dual benefits of showing his status in the gang (if anyone was looking) and keeping the dirt that always clung to the truck bed off his pants. Mae knew better than to let her amusement show, although she sometimes let herself giggle when she was alone.

And _women_ were supposed to be the vain ones!

The shitty radio was set to some late night rock station, the sound quality rough and ragged. Paul and Marko were in the back with Dwayne, who'd decided to sit there at the last minute to watch for early fireworks coming from the pier. It was the end of the decade, and Santa Carla was making sure the 80's were going out in style. David knew they were heading for the beach, since the only thing this far out was the cliffs and the sea. The road was awfully familiar, but he didn't say anything. Despite it being the middle of winter, the air was unusually warm, even for the California coast. If he'd still been human, he would have forgone his heavy trench coat and simply enjoyed the breeze. Being a vampire wasn't all fun, though, so it still felt pretty cold to him. David's musings were interrupted by Mae finally stopping the car, throwing it into park and shutting the engine off.

They were parked near the edge of the cliffs, right by the rickety stairs that led down to the cave the brothers had once called home. The three in the back were still talking, unaware of their surroundings, but they quickly quieted down when David and Mae stepped out of the truck. Everything seemed relatively untouched since the battle with The Rogues, well over a year ago. There were still scuffmarks in the dirt from the fight, but that was it. The place looked as abandoned as it always had. The boys hopped out of the back, wondering what Mae had planned. She hadn't brought anything with her except for her jacket, which she was wearing. Paul was the first to break the silence.

"So…what's this surprise, kiddo?" He asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders. Mae huffed at the nickname, but slid her arm around his waist in a side hug.

"First of all, I'm technically still older than you, so there. And you'll see. Come on." She broke the hug and ran for the edge of the cliff, leaping off to fly down to the shore. The others laughed at her very obvious attempt at showing off, but they followed her down. Little sisters, am I right?

The outside of the cave looked the same as it had the night they'd left it behind, but the scent was different. Mae had already disappeared inside, so her brothers followed her in, expecting to see nothing but water.

They were incredibly wrong.

All four of them froze in the entryway, their eyes wide with surprise. The cave was completely dry, the air cool and dry, despite the somewhat obvious signs of water damage still lingering on the walls. While the majority of their stuff was missing, some of their most valued possessions were now strewn about the room, including the old chandelier and Paul's battered stereo. Candles and torches were scattered here and there, some already lit with more joining them as Mae bustled about the cave. The boys slowly made their way inside, taking everything in with awed looks etched into their faces. Things weren't quite the way they used to be, but the feeling of _home_ was still the same.

In the center, right in front of the fountain, was David's wheelchair. The seat had been replaced, probably too damaged from being underwater for nearly a year, but the metal was polished to a perfect shine. It looked practically new. Strings of lights were nailed into the wall, which were powered by a generator tucked into an alcove to keep the noise level low. A few birds roosted high above them, and even though Marko was sure none of them were his beloved pigeons from before his second brush with death, he was pleased to see them all the same. Dwayne found a few rolled-up posters lying on a rock; when he unrolled them, he saw Jim Morrison staring back at him. Paul was flipping through the cassettes that were stacked next to his stereo, letting out little sounds of happiness when he found a tape he liked. David let his right hand rest on the handle of his wheelchair, taking in all the changes in the cave. He could faintly smell the lingering traces of other vampires in the air, although the scents were at least a week old by now. When all the candles and torches were lit, Mae blew out the match in her hand and sauntered over to her brothers.

"So…what do you think?" She asked shyly, hoping that their silence was a good thing.

"…How did you do all of this?" David asked quietly, his voice rough. He finally met his sister's eyes as the others gathered around, eager to hear her answer.

"Well, it wasn't _all_ me. I had some help. Okay, a _lot_ of help. Túlio knows a geologist and Casper knows some guys who are in construction, so they put their heads together to figure out a way to fix the cave. I know I should have asked you for permission for them to be in our territory, but I figure that since this was a surprise, you'd let it pass?" Mae smiled innocently up at him, quickly moving on when all David did was raise an eyebrow. "Anyway, it took about a month, and a _lot_ sneaking around, but they managed to patch up the hole in the cave's wall. They reinforced it as much as they could, although Credence said that we should have someone take a look at it every five years or so just to be safe. Once that was done, it was a matter of just sneaking away as often as I could to fix the stuff that was floating around in here, although I couldn't save everything."

"The posters and anything made out of fabric or rope was pretty much gone, and the stereo is really just for decoration now. The inside was ruined by the seawater, so I'll get you a replacement as soon as I can. I polished up the wheelchair, although I'm not sure if that was yours or just something from the hotel. Besides those things, there wasn't a lot left that I could salvage, so just tell me what used to be here and I'll try to replace it."

The boys were silent for a few moments, thinking of all the times Mae had been acting weird or cagey lately. Even though they hadn't thought much of it at the time, it dawned on the brothers that their little sister had been rather absent from their nightly gatherings for quite a while now. They'd mostly just passed it off as Mae stretching her wings, so to speak, but now it all made sense: she was trying to give them back the home they'd lost to the sea. It was a priceless gift.

Paul was the first to move, as always. He stepped forward and wrapped Mae up in his arms, grinning happily as he twirled her around. By the time he finally set her down, they were both laughing like madmen, and Paul took a note from Dwayne's playbook and ruffled her hair.

"Hey!" Mae squeaked, trying to pat her hair back down.

"Thanks, Mae." Paul's voice was uncharacteristically solemn, and Mae paused in her grooming to offer him a warm, affectionate smile.

"Anytime, Paul."

Dwayne was next, pulling Mae into a much more subdued hug, the two of them never needing more than silence and a shared look to understand each other. Paul may be her best friend, but Dwayne was her brother in the truest sense of the word, filling an emptiness inside of her that she'd never admit to out loud. Now that they were both vampires, his skin felt warm against her cheek as she leaned into him. Yes, Dwayne was her brother, and she'd do anything for him, and he would do anything for her. They didn't need to say anything, but Dwayne did anyway.

"Thank you, Mae." Dwayne squeezed her tight before letting go, slinging an arm over Paul's shoulder as the two wandered off to explore the rebuilt cave.

"Always." Mae murmured, knowing he would hear her.

Marko was next, and after a year of being together, they didn't need any words either. Instead, Marko simply swept Mae into a deep, searing kiss, swallowing her moans like they were wine. The kiss didn't last very long, but it felt like an eternity to Mae. When Marko pulled away, he left his girlfriend dizzy with a mix of lust and fondness.

 _"Thank you, кохана."_ He whispered in her mind, his hand brushing against hers as he headed off to join the other two, who seemed to be heading towards the hot springs hidden deep within the cave system.

 _"You're welcome, darling."_

That left David and Mae alone in the main chamber, the echoes of their brothers' chatter fading into a soft murmur as they moved out of hearing range. The distant crashing of waves and the soft glow of the candles gave the room a dreamlike atmosphere, making it feel less like an underground lair and more like a secret hideaway. Mae could see why the boys loved this place so much. David's hand gripping her chin brought her out of her reverie. For a split second, her senses went on full alert, but they calmed down when David's touch remained gentle and careful. Even now, Mae was still reeling from the damage done by her time under The Widow's spell; even when she knew that it was just her brothers nearby, she still spooked at the slightest movement in the shadows or the sound of an older woman's voice. David liked to think that she was getting better, but only time would tell. He still had nightmares about his brothers' demises being far more permanent, after all. He could relate.

"Why did you do this, Mae? You went to an awful lot of trouble for something that means nothing to you." David frowned, moving his hand down to her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline.

"It means something to _you_ , David. You _and_ the boys. Of course it means something to me." Mae replied, leaning into him unconsciously.

"This place was our home for decades, long before we ever met you. The only reason we ever showed up at your door was because the cave was lost to us." David pressed the issue. "Aren't you worried that we'll stay here from now on? That we'll want to move back in and make you leave the house?"

"No."

"No?" David raised an eyebrow, honestly confused.

"No, of course not. I _know_ you, David. This place is home to you, yeah, but home is more than just a place, you know. If you guys want to live here from now on, then I'll come with you. Aunt Lydia's house, it…it _does_ mean a lot to me, but in the end, it's just a bunch of wood and nails. I know what you're getting at, David, but it won't happen. I won't cut and run because things are changing. Haven't I proved myself to you a hundred times over already?" Mae sighed, frustrated. "My home is where you are, you and Marko and Dwayne and Paul. I'd be sad to leave it behind, sure, but…what good is a home if it's empty?"

"…I'm not afraid."

"Yes, you are. I am too. I'm always afraid that this will all be a dream, and I'm still under The Widow's thumb, or back in Los Angeles, alone in a crowd of people. You were betrayed. I get it, I really do, but I'm not leaving. None of us are. It's time to start letting go of the past, David. This is real. This is permanent. We're all safe now."There was silence for several long moments as Mae waited for her words to sink in, and then…

"…Besides, I know you're too used to living in a home with an actual fucking roof now to move in back here." She laughed, ignoring David's eye roll. "Admit it, David: you're a civilized man now."

"You're a pain in the ass and I don't know why I put up with you." David growled, but the sting was absent from his words.

"You put up with me because you love me." Mae replied, as if the answer was as simple as that. Maybe it was to her, but to David, it was as clear as mud.

"I'm not getting down on one knee for you, Mae, although I'm sure you could convince Marko if you waited long enough." David huffed, his frown deepening when Mae just giggled. "What's so fucking funny?"

"You." Mae leaned into him again, wrapping her arms around his waist. "There's more than one way to love someone, David. There's the way you love Paul, the way you love lightning when it strikes the ground near your feet, the heat and electricity always lingering afterwards. There's the way you love Dwayne, the way you love a feral wolf that's found its way into your camp, trusting that he won't kill you in the night, and that you won't kill him. Then there's the way you love Marko, the same way you love a viper that's wrapped around your hands, only seconds away from either biting you or striking your enemy. And then there's the way you love me. I think you love me the way I love you: like you're seconds away from throttling me, even when I'm telling you what you need to hear, like I'm a cat that snuck into your house one day and never bothered to leave."

"There are times when I can't stand you, David, and I'm sure there are times when you can't stand me. There are times when I want to strangle Marko, or Paul, or even Dwayne, although to be honest, he rarely ever grinds my gears. Most of the time, though, I love you guys, in my own little ways. I know you're not the most affectionate man, David, but you'll have to get used to these occasional emotional outbursts if we're going to be living together for eternity, got it? I love you. We all do, and nothing's going to change that."

Mae stood on the tips of her toes, placing a gentle kiss to David's lips.

"We're safe now, David. We're home. This is just the final piece of the puzzle slotting into place. You can let go now. I know it isn't easy. Shit, I'm still scared of my own goddamn shadow half the time, but you're not alone in this. Trust us, like we trust you, and in a few years, this'll be far behind us, okay?" Mae's expression was earnest, and once again, David was amazed that she'd whittled down to his deepest insecurities, his deepest fears, and showed him nothing but acceptance and kindness. No judgment, just concern and understanding.

For the first time in his long life, David finally began to let go. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing in his life ever was. In the distance, he could hear his brothers splashing around, the sounds a joyful contrast to his dark thoughts. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let his walls down, resting his forehead against Mae's. She waited patiently, letting him find his way in his own time.

Somewhere on the pier, the first fireworks of the 1990's exploded high in the air.

The times had changed, and so had he.

"…I love you, too."

* * *

And somewhere out there in the world, a pale pair of hands intertwined, their nails sharp like daggers, still stained a sticky red from their latest meal. Behind them, the sounds of revelry seemed muted as another explosion tore across the sky. No one mattered but them tonight, and every other night to come. They had everything they had ever wanted now.

Life was good.

"Happy New Year, babe."

"Happy New Year, my love."

When the fireworks finally died down, the pair left the hill to begin the new decade in style. All around them, their kind partied like the sun would never rise. Ah, if only. No one noticed them leave, not that it mattered. They'd be back again, someday.

With a swish of a skirt and the rasp of an old leather jacket, they were gone.


End file.
